


Revered One

by poptod



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: 600 AD, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Historical Accuracy, M/M, Mischief, graverobbing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26637310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poptod/pseuds/poptod
Summary: The original plan was to completely loot out the tomb and sell the winnings in Rome during a festival of wine-drinking. Doubt instills itself in you the moment you see the stolen Pharaoh come to life, and suddenly you find it hard to trust the two people you were meant to trust the most.
Relationships: Ahkmenrah (Night at the Museum)/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 20





	1. Dunes

The dust filling the old air burned your lungs, rough against your already parched throat. With careful hands you continued down the rope, climbing till you hung a foot off the ground, jumping off and landing on a sand-covered stone floor. You looked around, to the faded sandstone walls and shattered alabaster pillars who had lain themselves down so long ago half of them were covered in sand. Sunlight streamed through the hole above you, casting the sun's light over dust into a place that had not known the sun for a long while.

Despite the abandoned state of the underground chamber, you kept careful, with quiet footsteps and wary eyes. The paintings lining the walls were faded, their once vibrant colors dulled by time and erosion. Two pillars stood in front of you, each of them keeping up the ceiling, and leading up four steps to your goal – the unpillaged remains of a long lost Pharaoh.

"It's down here," you called up, making sure to keep your voice not too loud. You didn't want the ceiling falling on you.

"Sending down the chest," Hafa said, the rope withdrawing with a _zzzp_. You kept your eye on the unopened sarcophagus until the rope began to lower once more, this time with a chest tied at the end, already open for you to fill with the gifts of the tomb.

Fixing your cheche, you stepped forward. You first went to the right side, where table upon shelf upon chest carried dolls atop them, each carved unique with the familiar smile of the ancient Egyptians. They didn't matter. You brushed them to the side; dolls were one in a million and they wouldn't sell for anything. It was what was _in_ the chests and boxes, and the great tools of astronomers piled alongside gold and silver axes and spears.

Gripping your mace tight, you swung at the faded lock, grinning when it shattered into pieces and fell to the floor. You knelt before the grand chest ornated with lapis and gold, opening it up to find a wealth of old jewelry. Your grin widened in a fashion one could only label as devious.

For a minute or two you sorted through it, trying on the things you liked. There were quite a few golden arm bands, some shaped as snakes and some filled with emeralds and lapis – you kept the one snake band for yourself, piling the rest into your chest. Coins and rings of various types followed, along with golden beads and tiny rings for the braided hair so often depicted in Egyptian paintings.

Once the chest was completely filled you locked it up, signalling for Hafa and Fahad to lift it up. They did so, and within the next minute, another empty chest was being lowered down. This one you stocked with weapons – daggers of meteorite, swords adorned in precious gems, bows and arrows of remarkable craftsmanship. After all this time, their strings still hadn't broken.

It was a couple hours before the tomb sat barren, filled only with the paintings of a dead culture and the broken, tossed aside shabti dolls. Figurines of boats and soldiers lay beside them, tossed just as carelessly as any other wooden or stone object. The only thing of any worth left was the sarcophagus of the noble, sitting in the shadows of the grave, its' face looking eternally up with a kind smile.

"Mummies sell for a lot, don't they?" You called up, squinting as you looked up the hole and found nothing but sunshine. Your friend's silhouettes soon appeared.

"They can," Fahad said. "I think some people eat them."

"I thought they were making them into paint?"

"No, that's more in upper Europe. Neither of you can make me go there," Hafa said, earning a chuckle from Fahad.

"I'm not suggesting it," you said with open arms, your eyes beginning to hurt from squinting so much. "It's just – there's one of the fuckers here, totally decked out in gold. I can't get it open but the sarcophagus is probably pure gold."

Even from where you stood, you could see Fahad's eyes widen.

"Hook it up."

When you couldn't budge the coffin, Hafa roped herself down, landing down beside you with a cloud of dust and sand. She offered naught more than a smile before the both of you got to work, you pushing and her pulling till you finally pushed the coffin to the stairs.

"I don't think we'll be able to pick this up, so we'll just shove it down, yeah?" She said, and with a nod the two of you started again, flinching at the loud sound of the sarcophagus bumping its' and feet on the steps. Another push and it bumped its' head on them, landing on flat ground.

While she worked to hook up the coffin with the rope, you surveyed the room one last time, scanning for anything else of worth. Your eye was caught by the space behind the coffin's original resting place. Carved into the stone was a holder for a golden tablet, decorated in intricate hieroglyphs long lost to your world. Slowly you approached it, kneeling and digging your fingertips into whatever space you could, yanking and trying to free it from the stone's grip.

It wouldn't budge.

"Ready to go up?" Hafa asked.

"There's one last thing here," you said with a grunt, digging eight fingers into the little space you could and pulling as hard as possible. With a pop you fell back, the tablet landing on your chest, dusty and half broken.

"Shit," she mumbled, jogging to help you up. "At least it's just the edge you hurt."

"Think the edge would sell?"

"It's gold. Of course it will," she said as she knelt in much the same position you'd taken, having a much easier time of getting the corner of the tablet out of the wall.

Pocketing the piece, she jogged back over to the rope, beginning to climb up towards the sunlight. You looked down at yourself, searching for any spare cloth you could hide the tablet in. Soon you found a scrap of it, tearing it off and tying it back on, this time holding the tablet. Once fully secure you grasped the rope, hauling yourself up.

"You ready?" Fahad asked, his hands on his hips as he watched you rest your palms on your knees, panting from exertion.

"One moment," you breathed out, taking no more than a couple seconds to regain your composure.

The three of you stood in your usual line; Fahad the first puller, Hafa the second, and you the third. It was a measure of both age and strength. On the count of three you pulled as hard as you could, and by the sound of the sarcophagus scraping on the ground, you all knew it was working. Thank God.

Without pause you lifted it out, using the last bursts of energy you could to get it on the surface. Sand was hard to find purchase in, but as the three of you walked backwards, the coffin rose till it lay beside the hole Fahad made. A dry wind passed by you, highlighting the sweat on your forehead formed by the hot sun.

"Good news," Fahad said as he panted, taking lazy steps till he stood over the coffin's golden face, "we won't have to sell Iyad."

"Hey!" You exclaimed, feeling rather offended despite the joke having been around ever since you joined them. They never let go of it. You wished they would.

"Oh don't worry Iyad," Hafa said with a smile, patting your head. "We wouldn't sell you. We'd eat you."

"You are small after all," Fahad said. "Like chicken."

You bit your lip to keep from snapping back.

While you lounged about on the warm sand, Fahad and Hafa organized the riches, making sure none of them were visible for the long trek ahead of you. The camels you travelled with could easily carry them, allowing for a faster journey and a safer one. Too long spent in the desert with gold wouldn't do well – eventually someone would find out what you were carrying, and eventually people would be looking for you.

"Should we cover up the hole?" You heard Hafa ask quietly, their conversation a distant distraction to you.

"No use. Only way would be to create a lid and we haven't any wood," Fahad said. "Iyad?"

"Yes?" You responded, lifting your head to look at them with squinted eyes, used to the dark of your eyelids and burning in the sunlight.

"Do you have anything from in there? Have to hide it," he said, and with that you stood with a grunt.

"Found this tablet," you said as you pulled it out from behind you. "And a snake brace."

"I'll take the tablet. You can hide the brace in your bag," he said, taking the tablet and stuffing it in the carrier camel's bags. Following his orders, you took the brace off, tucking it away in your own camel's bags.

Before mounting up the three of you huddled into a group, looking over the map and Fahad's compass.

"If we want to make it to a city or oasis before sundown, we'll have to go south, but if we want to make it to Rome we'll have to go northeast," Fahad said with a frown. "What do you think?"

"Oasis is safer, right?" Hafa said, earning a nod from Fahad.

"We have time to spare," you said, shrugging. "It's not like we have to be in Rome by a specific time, and the detour shouldn't take more than a couple days, if that."

"Actually, we _do_ want to be there by Vinalia Priora," said Fahad.

"- and night's coming soon," Hafa pointed out.

"So... north?" You asked uncertainly after a long silence. Hafa and Fahad looked at each other, then at you, shrugging.

"Might as well," Hafa said as she gripped her camel's saddle, lifting herself onto it's back.

You rushed to your own camel at the front of the five-camel line, jumping up on top and holding the reigns tight as you pushed her forward. She jostled into even steps, her hoofs kicking up sand while you situated yourself, preparing for a long way forward. At dusk you would dismount and continue on foot till evening, at which point you would settle down wherever best seemed fit and set up a fire.

Even with Fahad's turban you could see sweat trailing down the side of his face when you looked back, remarking on it with a snarky tone he certainly didn't appreciate. You always thought your own method best, a cheche – he found it stupid, and overall 'unfashionable.' More than once you explained that keeping heatstroke off in the desert didn't really concern fashion, but he wasn't accustomed to desert culture. Not yet, at least. With your efforts hopefully the both of them would understand faster.

Hafa was getting the knack of it – she wore a veil over her head and face, allowing space for only her eyes, much like your own covering but thinner. The two of them were far too used to oceanside Persian weather, but you – you were raised in Africa, lived your whole life there. When the three of you arrived in Rome they could berate your method of dress, but for the meantime you were the primary source of information on the land.

The fifth camel in your group had the honor of carrying the sarcophagus wrapped in shoddy linen, and though most times your extra camels trailed behind you, Fahad insisted on keeping the coffin between you and Hafa. It didn't bother you too terribly, though the rattling of the coffin's contents did unsettle you. You wouldn't have to wait too long till that stopped, though, considering the sun was beginning to set, casting your shadows long against the sand dunes. Time to dismount and walk.

When the wind blew cold air in your eyes, the search for an oasis or any sort of shelter ensued. The Nile lay west of your location, but you couldn't rest there, as it was a highway frequented with people like yourself, and besides – you didn't think Egyptians would take kindly to grave robbers.

Soon you found a watering hole surrounded by a fair enough amount of brush, a singular tall tree hanging far above the water. There Fahad tied his camel up, followed by you and Hafa, letting the weary creatures kneel and rest. To conserve their energy the three of you worked to pile off the hidden riches, having trouble only with the heavy sarcophagus. As you stored the treasures away beneath thick brambles, Fahad started a fire, faint smoke drifting in the cold air. Hafa set up the beds – yours and Fahad's included. That was your general routine; you give security, Fahad gives warmth, and Hafa gives rest. It had been a long day, and you were eager to sleep.

As you tucked away the last bag, you caught the corner of the tablet sticking up out of it, the bright gold snaring you in. With wide, curious eyes you reached for it, pulling it out and marveling at the way it practically glowed in the firelight.

No, wait – it was glowing. It was _definitely_ glowing.

"Fahad?" You called, your eyes still stuck on the tablet.

"Yes?"

"Is gold supposed to glow?"

"Well it can, but -" his words dropped the moment he circled round the bushes, finding a glowing tablet in your hands, "not like that."

A sharp rattling sound had you jumping, whirling around to see whatever had made the noise, only to find nothing but a couple camels and the still-covered sarcophagus of the noble. Both you and Fahad stared at the coffin, daring it to move again.

It did, and the linen wrapped around it began to unravel.

"Hafa, come quick!" Fahad called, placing his arm in front of you to protect you. You kept the tablet close to your chest, the rushing of your blood blurring out all other sounds. A sick excitement welled inside you.

The three of you watched in horror, slowly backing up as the rattling grew worse, the linen now falling easily off with each shake. You could hardly breathe – the latch wasn't all that strong and you had no desire to see a zombie. What with the flesh falling off and the sunken cheeks, you had no desire to meet this person, the mental imagery sending a shiver down your spine.

Before any of you could think to run the lid flew off its' hinges, landing near your rather distressed camels who stood up and tried to run. Fortunately they were tethered to the tree, but you didn't feel that was all that important, considering a mummified hand was now reaching out and grasping the edge of the sarcophagus. Your hands shook inside Fahad's protection.

It reached behind it's head, unravelling the centuries-old linen as you watched, frozen in fear. Soon it tired of that method, turning to scratching the bandages off it's face till the whole face mask fell to the ground, a puff of dust exiting the man's mouth in a cough.

You perked up. He had skin – that was a definite plus, but the most remarkable thing was that he was young, somewhere around your own age with soft, brown hair.

"Where the hell am I?" He asked, looking around as though it would help him identify the place, only looking to you and your friends when he found himself at a loss.

"... east," Fahad answered, eyeing the man suspiciously.

"That doesn't help me all that much," the man said, looking just as confused as you did.

"So.. you're not going to eat us?" Hafa asked uncertainly, coming out of her cower behind Fahad's other arm.

"No, I'm not really into that, to be honest," he said with a sniff.

"This isn't supposed to be happening, right?" You whispered to Fahad.

"What in the hell makes you think this _should_ be happening?!" He hissed back. You shrugged.

"My name's Iyad," you introduced yourself, the first out of all four of you to speak your own name. The man smiled at that, gladly shaking your hand when you stepped forward, trying to keep a pleasant look about you despite fear in the pit of your stomach.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of Kemet, ruler of the land of my fathers," he said with a bow, his linen wrappings falling loose as he did so.

"Oh, you're a Pharaoh, then," Fahad said in a moment of recognition, his arms falling to his sides as he stroked his chin methodically. "That'll sell for a lot more," he mumbled beneath his breath to Hafa, who nodded.

"If we sell a cursed mummy to anyone we'll have soldiers on our ass for the rest of time," you pointed out.

"Maybe we can remove the curse?" Hafa suggested, the thought having you nodding and contemplating.

"That means we miss the deadline of the festival in Rome. What was it called again?" You said, turning to Fahad.

"Vinalia Priora," he said, earning an ' _ah_ ' from you. "There's always the festivals after that one, but they don't attract as many people."

"What about -"

"I'd really rather you not sell me," Ahkmenrah said bluntly, all three of you looking up with wide eyes, having forgotten his presence.

"We could bury him alive," Fahad suggested. You elbowed him in the side.

"Wait," Ahkmenrah said as his eyes darted to the tablet you held at your side, "that's my tablet."

"We found it," you said, reluctant to part with it.

"My father made it," he said with knitted brows.

You looked first to Fahad, who nodded, then to Ahkmenrah, who held out his hand expectantly. Slowly you stepped forward, handing it to him.

"Thank you," he said, tucking it beneath his many-layered clothes.

"I'm sorry, but it's been a very long day, and –"

"I can see that," Ahkmenrah said flatly, looking pointedly to the chests of his treasure hidden behind you. He crossed his arms.

"and we're hungry, and tired," Fahad continued with a glare. "We can discuss this in the morning."

"That won't do for me," the Pharaoh said, an airy look about him, "I turn to dust in daylight."

"Even better! Let's go," Fahad said, taking your hand and Hafa's and leading you to the campfire. Ahkmenrah followed.

As you sat down beside the pit, Ahkmenrah sat beside you, watching Fahad flit about in preparation for the upcoming meal. You smiled softly at him, and in return his lips quirked up as well.

"Do you need to eat?" You asked him.

"I'm not sure, but considering I don't have most of my organs, I don't think so," he said, putting his hand on his bare stomach and pressing in. You vaguely heard the sound of crunching paper.

"Why don't you have organs?"

"They take them out. Did you find any jars with a jackal head, or a hawk head?" He asked.

"Yes," you answered, feeling less and less sure that you wanted to be talking about this. "I thought they were empty."

"The hawk head has my intestines," he said, almost making you gag.

"Pleasant," you said weakly, turning back to the fire.

"Incredibly," he said with a smile, making you giggle.

"Iyad, stop talking to the new guy and get the hardtack," Fahad said, waving you off as he knelt by the fire, a plate of cured ham in his hand.

With a dissatisfied grumble you stood, making your way to the bags. Rifling through them, you tossed aside tools and tourist knick knacks, reaching in deep before you found the linen sack filled with hardtack saved from your last trip into a city. It brought back the memory of being chased out of El Lahun, which had a smile growing across your face. Guards never look in the ceiling.

You returned to the campfire with the bag in hand, setting it down as you sat, keeping your place beside the Pharaoh.

"At least we haven't got to feed you," Fahad said as he began to lay the unseasoned pork over a spit.

Ignoring Fahad, you split the hardtack, passing it to Hafa who sat across from you, and Fahad, who began nibbling it while he tended to the pork. It wasn't the best tasting food, but out in the desert it was a life saver. Hardtack never spoiled and it was light enough to carry long distances, making it a perfect food for people like yourself, and the wandering armies of Rome, who always left a trail of campsites behind them. More often than not they left food behind as well, something you recalled from your time trailing after one of their armies. Wasn't a great life, but you certainly didn't starve.

"So have you always been cursed?" You asked Ahkmenrah conversationally, only realizing the strangeness of the question after you said it.

"I'm not actually cursed," he said, words that had Fahad and Hafa perking up. "My tablet wakes me up in the evening and puts me to rest at dawn. If I don't get back to my sarcophagus by then, I will turn to dust."

"Interesting," you said, nodding as all that information went straight over your head. "How does the tablet work?"

"It is powered by the moon, Khonsu. He instilled it with magic. My father was part of his cult; I think if my father were part of Ra or Amun's cult, I would've come alive during the day," he said, and once more you understood very little of what he said. Egyptian culture was all but lost on you despite having grown up in Egypt.

Ahkmenrah looked around at all three of your confused expressions before saying, "you aren't Kemetic, are you?"

"Persian," said Hafa.

"Nabatean," said Fahad.

"Somalian," you said. "Spent a good deal of my teenage years in Aswan, though."

"I've never been there. Most south I've ever been was Luxor. What's it like there?"

"A bit run down now," you answered truthfully. You didn't go into full length about it, but he nodded, turning back to the fire.

"How long have you been dead?" Hafa asked, her words half-muffled by the bite of hardtack in her mouth.

"I'm not sure, but it must've been a while," he said, and though the answer was rather vague, it was the best you had. None of you had the connections to know Egypt's history, and Ahkmenrah wasn't up-to-date enough to be able to relay the exact years and times. After all, your calendar was far different from his.

You reached forward, taking a slice of pork and setting it on your bread, biting into it happily. The cured pork was the closest thing you had to flavor, something that came out a little clearer when smoked for a second time over an open fire.

"There's a date tree above us," Ahkmenrah noted as he looked up. You followed his eye, finding the palm tree stocked with fruits you'd never dared to try.

"What are dates?" Hafa asked.

"Little.. fruit things," he said.

"Edible?" You asked.

"Most of the time," he said, shrugging.

You directed your attention back to the food in your hand, quickly finishing that up before you stood, wandering over to the trunk of the tall palm tree.

"How do you get it down?" You asked, turning to Ahkmenrah.

"Hmm," he said, coming to his feet and standing beside you. "Have you got a grappling hook?"

"It's on our to-do list," Fahad said, barely paying attention.

"You could get on my shoulders," Ahkmenrah suggested, and though it wasn't your first choice, it wasn't as terrible a suggestion as you were expecting.

Shrugging, you nodded, watching as he knelt down for your convenience. You swung your leg over his shoulders, situating yourself nice and safe before you gave the go-ahead for him to stand. Once you did you almost fell, but your legs tightened around him, and your hands gripped the top of his head, careful not to tug too hard.

"Steady," he warned you.

You reached upwards, still an arm's length away from the fruit. Still, never one to give up, you continued to try and reach for the hanging palm leaves, hoping you could bend the fruit lower. To no avail – the two of you were still too short.

"I can't reach them," you said with a huff, setting your hands on your hips as you looked down. He craned his neck up to meet your eye.

"Maybe stand on my shoulders?" He suggested, before promptly being interrupted by Fahad.

"That's too dangerous," Fahad said, looking at the both of you as though you were in a sorry state.

"You know my balance is impeccable," you said. More than once your balance had saved you, as it was a talent highly desired by sneaking thieves such as yourself. Actually, it was probably why Fahad and Hafa let you join their troupe in the first place.

"We don't know how dependable Ahk is. I won't risk you for fruit," he said.

"I can put them both on my shoulders," Hafa suggested, earning a warning glare from Fahad. "I've got muscles."

In a show she smiled, raising her arms and flexing the biceps apparent in her sleeveless shirt. Fahad said nothing, and Hafa took that as a good sign, abandoning the last few bites of her meal to stand beside Ahkmenrah, looking up at you.

"This'll be fun," you said with a smile, trying your best to keep even on Ahk's shoulders as he clambered onto Hafa's shoulders.

"This is the stupidest thing any of you have ever done," Fahad grumbled.

"I've done much stupider," Ahk said.

"That I don't doubt."

Hafa began to stand from her knelt position, doing so slowly to allow both you and Ahk time to adjust. You weren't too worried, as your grip on him was already affirmed, but he swayed as he stabilized himself on Hafa's shoulders, only assured of safety when Hafa held her hands up for him to grasp.

"Can you reach it now?" Ahkmenrah asked, looking up at you.

Stretching your arm as far as you could you grasped the center of the fruitful branch, a grin coming to you as you began to pull, attempting to separate the branch from it's trunk. In one last tug it came loose, the three of you almost tumbling over till Hafa kneeled down. From there Ahkmenrah dismounted, then you, a proud smile on your face and the branch in hand.

"Congratulations," said Fahad. "You didn't die."

"Thanks. Want one?" You said, picking one of the dates off and extending it to him. He paused for a moment, looking over both you and the fruit.

"Sure."

Later into the night, when the crickets hummed loud and the moon shone in a crescent, the three of you prepared for sleeping in shifts. Fahad would stay awake first – after his shift was Hafa's, and then yours, as you would begin to prepare the camels in the wake of dawn. The only issue was Ahkmenrah. He wouldn't need to sleep (at least that's what he said), and though you couldn't quite trust him you _did_ worry that Fahad would do something rash. Fahad was a very logical man, but he was also slow to trust. That was probably why he blackmailed you at first.

Once you lied down you hardly had the energy to concern yourself with the Pharaoh's safety. Exhaustion dragged at your eyes, forcing you to close them as the blurry image of Fahad quietly speaking with Ahkmenrah faded into sleep.

Time passed far too quickly as you lay unconscious, drifting about in your own unhinged imagination. The only indicator that time had passed at all was that when Hafa woke you, the sky was slightly lighter than the ink of midnight, though if it were up to your body, only a couple minutes had passed. Ever since your troupe started this expedition out into the Egyptian desert, you hadn't gotten a single night of good sleep. You doubted your friends had either.

As Hafa returned to her blankets you sat up, still half asleep as you surveyed your little campsite. The fire had gone out long ago, even the embers burnt to ash, cradled in the ring of stones. Ahkmenrah had taken on the silence of a sleepy world, sat up against the date tree and looking up to the domed sky still littered with stars.

Reluctantly you pulled yourself to your feet, padding over to where he sat, your hand on the butt of the knife tied to your waist.

"Morning," you mumbled as you took a seat beside him, your posture stumbling and leaning into the tree.

"You don't look so good," he said with a frown.

"I never look good," you grumbled, unlatching your flask and sipping from it. "Desert wandering don't agree with the human body."

"Most of the times I travelled I went by the Nile. Why don't you try that?" He suggested.

"Too many Romans and too many thieves. The road's too well known now, so if you have any business you want to keep discreet or safe, gotta stay on the sand," you said, tilting your head to the sky.

He hummed in response, directing his attention back to the stars. Sleep began to tug at your bones once more, so you pinched your skin, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open.

"Where are you going with everything you stole?" He asked, glancing at you.

"I don't think I'm supposed to tell you," you said.

"Don't trust me?"

"Haven't known you long enough, so yes," you said, earning a chuckle from him.

"What am I going to do? I'm already dead," he said rather bitterly. You tilted your head to him, looking him over before meeting his eye, quirking a brow.

"Stab us in our sleep," you said. "You do seem like a nice person, though. It can be hard to find people like you."

"Well, if you associate yourself with thieves and graverobbers –"

"Kind of the same thing," you interrupted in a mutter.

"– then it's hard to find people who retain their humanity while simultaneously breaking it," he continued without paying your words any attention.

You paused, letting silence fall between you.

"We're going to Rome. It's above the Mediterranean, and we're going to sell everything we found. Probably'll sell the tablet before that, too, since you being alive sort of complicates things," you said as you took another swallow from your flask. You spared only a glance to him, and in that second your stomach went sick from the pure helplessness in his demeanor.

"I might be able to convince Fahad not to sell you and the tablet, or at least not separately," you murmured. Ahk's eyes widened, his posture suddenly straightening.

"You'd do that for me?"

"... sure," you mumbled.


	2. Statues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey continues.

In the hours before the rising sun, you woke Fahad and Hafa, as the three of you always had early starts. While it certainly made all of you a bit more snappy, it was far safer and got you closer to your destination faster. So, as you packed away the blankets and hid any sign of your camp, Fahad wrapped up the treasures of gold, and Hafa organized your other belongings on the five camels. None of you payed much attention to Ahkmenrah, who sat on the ground watching the three of you flit around.

Situating the saddles back onto the camels, you began to pack up the various trinkets and tools back into the saddle bags, stroking the fur as you did so. Someone's eyes were hot on your neck, but when you turned you saw only Ahkmenrah staring at his feet. You dismissed it and returned to the task at hand.

* * *

When the first rays of sunshine began to appear over the horizon, Ahkmenrah stood, coming to stand beside Fahad, who stood in front of the sarcophagus.

"I need to get back in, if you don't mind," he said, largely ignoring the annoyed face of Fahad.

"You're lucky I haven't started wrapping this up," Fahad said as he stepped to the side, allowing the Pharaoh to open the casket up and crawl inside. Curiosity overcame you as you abandoned your task, jogging over to watch the process.

"Will you still have your skin?" You asked, your hands on the coffin's ledge.

"I don't actually know that, but I don't think so," he said.

"Should we wrap you back up then?" Hafa said with a grunt, tightening one of the buckles on the camels.

"That would be nice of you," he said, and with that you took the linen rollup from Fahad, placing the end of it at the base of Ahkmenrah's skull. Fahad tsked but said nothing else.

Kneeling to lighten the pressure on your back, you scooted closer, till his head was almost pressed against your chest. Only then could you easily wrap him up, starting with his neck and moving slowly up his face. By the time you reached above his nose, the sun was starting to fully rise, and you hurried your movements till the whole of his face was covered.

"See you tonight," you said as he scooted down, resting his head at the bottom of the gold sarcophagus.

He crossed his arms over his chest, and as the sun's rays cast their light upon him, he stopped breathing, and his body fell silent and sunken. You stared for a moment in either amazement or disgust before closing the coffin, a mute expression on your face. It wasn't like you hadn't seen anyone die before – you had, and you'd been the perpetrator of it several times – but none of those times were silent deaths. Odd, certainly, but you had things to do. Latching up the coffin you stood, returning to packing up your belongings.

Before long the three of you were back on the road, keeping the sun off with various head coverings and long clothes. The two camels carrying the sarcophagus (along with several other heavier things) walked between you and Hafa in line, the carrier designed much like a boat, as it was the only design that worked in the sand. Wheels didn't do anything, though they were good for the stone streets of the cities ahead.

Your eyes began to itch, dry from the pleasant breeze blowing sand off the dunes, scattered on the ground in tiny whirls your camel easily stepped over. The reins in your hands were rough against your palm, but despite that you tightened your grip. As the header of the pack, you had to keep your eye out for any robbers or dangerous terrain, as any lapse in concentration could land you in a dire situation. There were a number of horror stories about that that you'd heard; tales of abandonment and becoming lost among the hills and red cliffs.

Somehow, you'd never actually gotten lost in the desert. Fahad remarked on that at one point, around when you first met and you first ventured into the desert. He kept his compass close despite your talent, and you couldn't blame him, considering he was a man to stay safe rather than be sorry. Probably a tad paranoid, but you hadn't met a person who wasn't. It was not a good time to be alive.

You knew little about politics, but you knew the basics, which was the best you could wish for from a person who spent the bulk of their life alone in a desert. Rome was in an alright state (at least it was the last time you were there), which made it one of the safer places to be. The worst place to be was right where you were – in Egypt, where Roman power clashed with Egyptian and Byzantium, all fighting over the same, fertile land. You probably should've wanted Egyptians to win, considering they were there first, but you didn't care. All that mattered was that some end was reached, and that you could wander the land without looking behind you every step of the way.

Without hills or destination in sight, and the only existing colors the yellow of the sand and the blue of the sky, your thoughts circled back to the revived (but now dead again) Pharaoh. He seemed a rather nice man in your eyes – that being said, you did regret telling him where you were going.

Rarely did you ever disobey an order from Fahad, the only other time being when you knew the snakes around you weren't poisonous. You accidentally chuckled out loud at the memory. The snakes weren't poisonous, but they _did_ still bite you, and it did hurt quite a bit. But this wasn't like that time. This was trusting someone you shouldn't have trusted, and it could get you in far more trouble than dying by a snake would.

Unfortunately, whenever you recalled Ahkmenrah smiling at you, you couldn't find it in yourself to _not_ trust him. He just had a look about him – sweet and innocent, with a taste of a bitterness you were 60% sure was due to being locked up in a chamber for however many years he had been there. So, not that sure, but he still looked trustworthy, and to be perfectly honest he was rather handsome, as much as you hated to admit it. You were _not_ about to kiss a corpse, no matter how reanimated it was.

At mid-afternoon you dismounted, the three of you quick to set up a tent over your heads to wait out the worst heat of the day. The camels curled up in the shade as well, though stayed away from you, as both yours and their body heat wasn't comfortable when mixed.

Unscrewing your flask, your eyes set on the golden coffin, the familiar color drowned out by the dull linen encasing it. A part of you expected the door to burst open again – perhaps he'd been lying when he said he died in the mornings. But no matter how hard or long you looked, there was no movement at all.

"Someone's on our trail," Fahad said softly, his gaze cast out to the footprints you left in the sand. Following his line of sight, you caught a distant shadow, hazy on the sunswept horizon.

"Think they know about our cargo?" Hafa asked.

"Best not find out. Let's go," Fahad said, bringing the two of you to your feet.

In a rush you took down the tented blanket, storing away pikes and whatever else you'd fiddled with in your downtime back into your packs. The whole of the endeavor couldn't have taken more than a couple minutes, but as you mounted your camel and looked behind you, you could clearly see the outline of a person atop their own steed.

Though your camels were already tired you pushed them forward, hurrying the pace as best you could, and sparing as few glances backwards as possible.

"We'll have to stay in a city tonight," Fahad said across the line from you, his hands leaving the reins to look over a map.

"I don't think it's a good idea to stay in the city with all this stuff," Hafa said, looking back to Fahad.

"If we hurry we could probably hide the bulk of it," you suggested, though neither of them listened to you.

"The nearest city is Pelusium. It's not in the best state, but that'll probably work to our advantage, as long as we keep our weapons on us," Fahad thought out loud, concentrated heavily on the papyrus map.

"I've got an axe," said Hafa.

"Mace," you said, palming your belt to make sure it was still there. It was.

"I know I have my sword," Fahad said.

With your haste, the city soon appeared in the distance, surrounded by the plants growing alongside the well-known Nile. Pelusium had been a spot of contention for a good while now; ever since you were born, actually. Before then it was apparently a nice city, but now you double checked your mace, preparing for keeping a constant eye out.

"Iyad," Fahad called your name, catching your attention. "You've been there before. Any ideas on where to put our things?"

"The tombs. Everyone thinks they're haunted, no one wants to go inside them, so as long as you two are fine with it, I don't think anyone will find it," you said, recalling the many underground caverns and gravesites carved into the nearby mountainside. The land, once fertile, had grown into dusty, rocky earth with red-tinted mountains surrounding it.

As the edge of the sun began to rest on the distant hill, you led the troupe to the side of Pelusium, where graves were dotted in the earth in a winding, maze-like fashion. Rarely had you ever entered the graves – you weren't one for believing just any old tale, but you had to admit there was something... strange, about them. The very walls seemed to reek of both holiness and sin, a trait that seemed unique to the ancient Egypt of long ago.

Tying your camels up to the posts outside, the three of you began to unload the various bags and luggage carried by both yourselves and the camels. The first room you entered was an offering room, but by the looks of the vandalization, it would not do as a hideout. Reluctantly you led them further, crouching beneath the lower entrances and almost crawling along the ground before you reached the dead man's home. A large, wooden sarcophagus sat in the middle, surrounded by paintings, a dozen spells carved into the wood.

"You've got the tablet, haven't you?" Fahad said, panting slightly from the walk. He could barely stand at his full height in the tomb.

"Yes," you answered.

"Might want to trash the mummy, then. If it brings the Pharaoh to life, it'll probably bring this one to life too," he said as he set down the chest, surveying the room and the still-colorful paintings.

"Can't we just take the body outside?"

"Too much effort. The sun's already setting," Hafa said, bringing in a second chest and setting it beside the first she'd brought in.

Disgruntled, you helped get the rest of the treasure in the tomb, hiding it against the darkest wall. Once it was all packed together, Fahad took a burnt-out torch off the wall. Relighting it, he handed it to you, turning his eye to the now easily seen paintings. They weren't anything special – you'd seen paintings like them a hundred times, but Fahad found something interesting about them.

"Hafa and I will go into the city, find some food and new bandages. Can you stay here, look after this?" Fahad asked as he turned to you.

"I can hold my own," you said.

"Good. And remember," he mimicked throwing a hammer through the wooden coffin. "We'll be back in a few hours or so."

You nodded, watching them disappear into the purple dust of evening. Hanging the torch on the wall, you unhooked your mace, twirling it in your hand as you looked over the coffin. You'd seen murder and your fair share of corpses, but you'd never _desecrated_ a corpse. Especially not in the place they were meant to find eternal peace. Still, Fahad had a point – it was better to be safe than sorry, and it was safer to destroy it.

Biting into your cheek, you swung the mace down, your face in a mute, expressionless daze. Over and over again you swung down, watching the wood crackle and break beneath the heavy metal of your mace. It wasn't long at all until the coffin lid broke all the way through, dust puffing into the air as you struck again, this time breaking bone. In a mess of mangled human, linen, and wood, you stared empty at the poor bones sat beside the treasures of a King.

From behind you a glow began to form, and as you turned you found the tablet still wrapped in linen. A few spots had shone through, though, glowing brighter than the torchlight till it began to dim and the Pharaoh's sarcophagus started rattling. Your eyes darted to the coffin, staring only a moment before reaching forward, unlatching the lid and helping the King to sit up.

"Evening," he said pleasantly once his head wrappings were removed.

"What the _hell_ did you do to my skeleton?" You heard a voice from behind you. You whipped around, eyes wide as you searched for the man, and finding none. Ahkmenrah stood in a similar state of confusion. "Over here!"

You turned once more, this time coming face to face with a painting. A painting of a man holding a spear, hidden in the reeds and entirely 2D, and he was talking to you.

"I needed that, you know," he said, his brows furrowed in anger as his one eye stared at you.

"I didn't do it," you said immediately.

"Okay, Mx. 'I'm-carrying-a-mace-with-me', go ahead and lie to me," the painting hissed in a seething glare.

"Mother of God," you mumbled beneath your breath. "Is this supposed to be happening?"

"I'm not sure," Ahkmenrah said, which you easily recalled as his answer to the last question you asked him.

"Even if you _hadn't_ done it, don't you think it's common courtesy to fix me up a little? Ever thought of that? Hmm?" The painting continued to drawl.

"Are you gonna sit there and talk all night?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"You _destroyed_ my body! I think I'm allowed to be angry," the painting said, turning his nose up in disgust at you.

"For the last time, I didn't do it," you grumbled. "Come on," you said as you took Ahk's hand, "we can wait outside."

"Where are the other two?" He asked, trailing behind you and ducking beneath the lower ceilings.

"Off in the city. Couldn't leave the loot alone, so I stayed," you explained as the light of the sky once more shone on you, dim and cool.

From your point on the mountain's ledge, you saw the city of Pelusium, surrounded in greenery. Lights danced around its streets, reflecting on the white stone of broken-down monuments. Past the Roman city lay the ocean, waves lined with sea foam like lace to a blue silk dress crashing against the distant shore, their hum just barely reaching your ears. It was then you also noticed Fahad and Hafa took the camels – all of them, leaving you with an empty walkway rarely anyone took. There you sat, digging your heels into the dirt, lying back, and staring up at the empty sky.

Ahkmenrah sat beside you, albeit begrudgingly, keeping himself upright though he stared up just like you. He pulled his knees to his chest, setting his elbows on them.

"What city is this?" He asked, turning to you.

"Pelusium. If we're lucky, we can find passage by water to Rome here," you said as you interlaced your fingers behind your head. He hummed, turning back to the city.

"I haven't ever visited Pelusium," he said, his eyes trained on the flickering lights set beneath the obelisk in the center of the city. "I do remember my father had trouble with them once – something about miners, I think."

"For a Pharaoh, you haven't seen very much of your kingdom," you said.

"Actually, I was only Pharaoh for a couple days," he mumbled, bringing a more acute attention on him. "Before that I wasn't allowed to leave the palace."

"Why not?"

"Father was a bit overprotective. I mean, I could leave sometimes, but most of the time I had to sneak out. I got pretty good at it, too," he said, nodding.

"I know the feeling," you said quietly, "but I was good at sneaking before I met Fahad. He's the one whose sort of... like your father. He's like my dad, I guess. Except my real father was a.. um, well, he wasn't very smart."

Ahkmenrah chuckled, his smile so bright and sweet you could feel a blush swelling in your already warm face. There it was again – that look about him, the one that made him innocent and trustworthy. You found yourself grinning with him.

"I take it Fahad is smart, then?"

"He's a lot more conscious of dangers and reality than my father was, yes," you said, thinking back to the many years ago when you'd ran away. "We were wanderers, and pacifists, so I watched them get hurt a lot more than I probably should have. I, um.. I ran away though, got adopted by this clan down in Somalia."

"Did you run away from them too?" He asked, growing steadily more sober with each detail of your story.

"How'd you know?"

"Well if you hadn't, you probably wouldn't be here," he said with a hint of a smirk.

"... fair," you said. "Can I say something?"

"Of course," he said.

"I think it's very impressive, how you didn't lose your shit when you met us. I mean, it was impressive for us to also not lose our shit, but... damn. Waking up after being dead for God knows how many years and the first thing you see is grave robbers," you said, rambling on with exaggerated hand gestures.

"I was rather alarmed to be honest," he said. "I've always been adaptable to change. My mother said it was a good trait."

"It is," you agreed.

"My mother loved me quite a lot," he continued, staring at his fingers tangled anxiously in one another. "I never liked that. She never gave any of my brothers that sort of attention. Neither did my father, but she was especially bad about it. Oftentimes I wonder how different things would be right now if they'd been genuinely good parents to my siblings, not just me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's... complicated," he said, turning to meet your concerned eye.

"I'll listen," you murmured with wide, innocent eyes. He sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"One of my older brothers, his name was Kahmuh – he never liked me all that much. I mean, he was a generally nice kid, but we just never had that connection, you know?"

You nodded.

"Khafra was, um, he was one of my other older brothers. It went Kahmuh, then Khafra, then me, and the youngest, Khufu. Khafra and I got on pretty well, and last I saw Khufu he didn't have much of a personality considering he was five years old. But anyway, I... um, my parents mostly paid attention to me, got me things that I never asked for, and Kahmuh really started to hate me. I don't blame him, but I do wish he could've seen that I was just as upset at the situation as he was. Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Almost did, but she died in the womb," you said quietly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking at the ground with a saddened expression. "You're not missing out on much if your sister was going to be anything like my brother."

You scoffed, a small, reluctant grin on your face as you shook your head.

"I never wanted a sister anyway," you sighed, shifting in the dirt.

"Why not?"

"I would've been the one taking care of her, and I don't think that's a healthy responsibility to bestow on a child," you said. Clearing your throat, you shifted for the last time, tracing your finger through the softer dirt.

"How old are you anyway?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

"24. I was nine when the sister thing happened."

"Nine _is_ a young age to start parenting at," he admitted, to which you nodded.

A silence stretched between you, not unlike the ones that came before; peaceful and quiet, and somehow you weren't anxious. Usually silence had you fidgeting, but when you both looked quietly to the city and the stars there was nothing but belonging.

"It doesn't usually take them this long," you mumbled, your eyes trained on the city streets, trying to make out something beyond slow-moving blurs.

"Should we go looking for them?"

"We... we can wait another thirty minutes," you said uncertainly, leaning slowly back into the hillside behind you. Checking your mace was starting to become a nervous habit.

By the time thirty minutes passed, you were pacing, and Ahkmenrah had gotten his tablet from the tomb. Neither Hafa or Fahad had come back, leaving you and him alone with your own worries.

"Let's go look for them," you said, gesturing to the city behind you as you stood before the Pharaoh.

"Will I draw much attention in this?" He asked, looking down at his linen wrappings.

"Probably, but it'll be fine," you said as you grabbed his hand, forcing him to follow you down the hill.

The walk took no more than a couple minutes before the dirt paths turned to stone, leading towards the center of Pelusium. Just like the last time you were there, a fair amount of homeless sat on the streetsides, and seedy taverns had spread their customers over the whole of the city. The taste of alcohol led sour in the air, making you shrivel up your nose.

"Oh," you paused your search for a moment, bringing Ahkmenrah to stand close in front of you, "you'll need this."

He looked down to find your dagger in your extended palm. At first he hesitated, but as the shouts of a raucous crowd had him jumping, he took the weapon and concealed it in his linen wrappings. As he did so you looked around, noting that there were several people staring at him. You didn't tell him.

The two of you continued down the streets, looking in back alleyways and scanning more crowded marketplaces for familiar faces. You were, at first, a tad worried that you wouldn't be able to identify Fahad and Hafa due to their head scarves, but in the markets it appeared no one wore anything on their heads. That narrowed it down, but between the dirt and dust covered people and those mutilated by scars you still had a hell of a search ahead of you.

"Keep close," you whispered to Ahk, who nodded, reaching for your hand and gripping it tight in his palm. You ignored the way your heart spiked and continued onwards, paying no mind to the breathing statues lining the streets.

Halfway through the still-active markets Ahk tugged on your arm, trying to get you to stop. For a little while you pulled forward, but he tugged hard, and you whirled around to face him.

"What?" You hissed.

"The... I'm not sure how to say this, but it might've been a good idea to leave the tablet in the tomb," he mumbled, his shoulders pulled up to his ears as he anxiously bit into his lip.

"Why?"

He pointed over his shoulder, and as you traced his thumb to the crawling stone of a sphynx. Color drained from your face as you stared, watching it sneak closer and barely processing the people jumping out of its' slow path, terrified of its life.

"Did you know this would happen?!" You asked with gritted teeth, balling his shirt in your fists and forcing him closer to you, horror evident in your eyes.

"I honestly wasn't sure," he said defensively, holding his hands up. The tablet in his right hand still reflected the light of the moon with great accuracy.

"We should probably run, right?" You said, your voice cracking, eyes trained on the sphynx, who was now growling.

"Probably," he said with a shrug, but before either of you could say a word the sphynx drew onto its haunches.

Instinctively you grabbed Ahk's hand and ran, twisting through the streets and people without looking back, your panicked breathing only pushing you to hold his hand tighter. Several people yelled at you as you pushed past them, but the stone creature grew closer and they were shouting to get out of the way.

"There's more of them now," Ahkmenrah commented almost leisurely, sparing glances behind him when you weren't whipping him around corners.

"Oh, are there? I hadn't noticed. Thanks for telling me," you said sarcastically, quickening your pace despite the burn in your legs worsening.

You were good for sprinting short distances, but any chase over a couple minutes left you exhausted, a trait that had you searching rooftops and alleys for somewhere to hide. The two of you passed by more stone statues, and as you did so they too came to life. Signs you passed began to speak, and by the time you reached the ocean you were entirely depleted of energy, resting in its place fear. At last you turned around, watching a horde of stone figures approach in a haze of desert dust.

Before they could reach you Ahk pulled you away from your petrified position, forcing you into an alleyway you hadn't seen and pushing you into an empty casket. You hardly had the time to recognize it as a wooden sarcophagus before he entered after you, pulling the door shut and pressing himself against you, leaving nothing but silence and the sound of both your heavy breaths.

"Will they find –"

"Shh," he said beneath his breath, using his free hand to cover your mouth. Outside, the padding of footsteps passed by, soon fading as the horde passed you by.

He waited a minute or two before he opened the door, first only an inch to peek his eye out. From the little you could see, the alley appeared empty, and by the silence you had already assumed you were safe.

"We still need to find Fahad and Hafa," you murmured, looking over his shoulder at the sliver of moonlight.

"I remember," he whispered in reply, a moment later opening the sarcophagus for the both of you to exit.

The switch from warm, soft air into the chill of night froze your nose, biting at your sandal-clad feet. Looking around, you motioned for him to follow you down to the other end of the alleyway.

"Is there any way for you to shut off that thing?" You asked as you looked out past the turn, searching for any danger or your friends.

"Not without falling into dust myself," he said, an answer you were half-expecting and also fully despising. God, he was trouble – you wouldn't be here if that damned tablet didn't exist, but it was almost... exciting. No one really treated you like you were your own person, yet for some reason a hundred year old dead Pharaoh did.

"Let's try to avoid statues then," you said, and he nodded, following when you left your spot behind the alley walls.

Though the moon hung in the sky, the streets were lit mainly by the candles and fireplaces of restaurants and homes. In the windows you saw silhouettes, dancing and drinking, and a few kissing. Ahkmenrah paused when he saw that, a sweet, happy smile crossing him before you grabbed his hand again, pulling him away.

"You're a sap," you said, a grin on your face despite your supposed annoyance.

"I just like to take the time to enjoy the finer parts of life," he said very matter-of-factly, his smile growing in time with yours.

"So a sap," you said.

"I'd prefer the title romantic."

There were a few more statues you passed by, and though they came to life (absolutely terrifying bystanders in the process) you found yourself more accustomed to their magic and their threat. Easily fooled, the lot of them were – that was probably because they were just born. Ahkmenrah had a life before the tablet, which proved itself helpful when he found hiding places dotted around the city. In a moment a Roman statue cracked his neck, and in the next Ahkmenrah took your hand, cramming the both of you into the back of a storeroom.

"You're good at this," you noted, looking him up and down in the small space. The scent of spices overpowered almost all other senses, surrounding you and cooking in the next room over.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "I learned it from sneaking out. Couldn't have my father's soldiers noticing me."

"That'll certainly do the trick. I don't usually hide, I, uh.. I usually just sneak attack and hit them upside the head," you said, earning a laugh from Ahk, his head dropping between his shoulders as a silent laugh racked him. You grinned at the sight.

"We have very different methods of confrontation," he said as he came down from his high.

"Yours hardly counts as confrontation. Hungry?"

"Hmm?"

You picked one of the bread cones off the shelf behind you, presenting it to him in the dark of the room. Neither of you could see your hand, but he went by feel, splitting the cone in half and handing one to you.

In the first bite he practically moaned, once more spiking your heartbeat and freezing your breath.

"It has been eons since I've had fresh food," he mumbled through a massive bite of bread. You almost laughed, but a chef passed by the storage room, and you held it in in favor of eating. Hunger gnawed at your stomach, and as you took your first bite you remembered you hadn't actually eaten anything all day. Between the two of you the bread was gone just about as fast as it appeared.

"It'd be rude to take more than one, right?" You said uncertainly, eyeing the next cone.

"I think it'd be a compliment to the chef. Shows we really enjoyed it," he said, and though the both of you laughed, you did end up taking the next bread cone and returning to the streets.

Your search was leisurely with bread in hand, almost strolling down the streets and taking your time to ensure that familiar looking strangers weren't actually your friends. Eventually, through evading statues and worming out of marketplaces, you found yourself on the edge of town, where another market had made itself a home. It unsettled you far more than the previous markets, which were lit by tavern light. This one had no lights except the few torches people carried, and though most people didn't visibly wear their weapons, there were quite a few market stalls that sold unsavory things you'd rarely find in a common market.

Before you could fully enter, you caught sight of the many trinkets with faces carved on their front.

"Stay here. We don't want all those dolls coming to life," you whispered to Ahk, who nodded and stepped off to the side.

Reluctantly you left him, wandering the market with wary eyes and your hand set on the butt of your mace. Several people caught your eye – in this crowd, more people wore face coverings, making your job all that much harder. Gritting your teeth you moved forward, ignoring those who stared at you and glaring at those who tried to sell you something.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Fahad hissed into your ear, a hand on your shoulder to spin you to face him. You smiled, but that quickly faded when you noticed his expression – rage-filled. Not the first time he'd looked at you like that, but it still upset you. "I told you to look after the stash. Did you seriously leave the King alone with it?!"

"I brought him along. You realize you've been out here for hours, right? I thought something happened to you," you said, quick to defend yourself.

"No, no –" he sighed, running his hands through his hair and pulling his turban off in the process. "We're fine. We're just stuck in this deal, we – we got the food and the bandages, now we're trying to secure a ship ride cross the Mediterranean."

"Oh, makes sense. Seller being a hardass?"

"As usual," he said with a nod, handing you the bag of food. Unravelling the top, you peered inside, instantly hit with the scent of sweet wine cakes.

"Oooh, we haven't had these since Rome," you said excitedly, digging your hand in and pulling out a small piece.

Food in Rome was fantastic. No one could deny that, and oftentimes when you wandered the desert, you missed the cuisine of that great city. It was a mesh of cultures, and thus a mesh of flavors and recipes. Truly a great marker of a civilization.

Fahad led you through the market, looking back every now and then to make sure you hadn't strayed. With the small size of the gathering, you soon found Hafa at an oceanside stall, offering only a small greeting before she went back to haggling with the merchant.

"If you're alright then, I think Ahk and I can go back to the hill, right?" You said, gesturing vaguely into the darkness past the city.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Get yourselves back to the stash," Fahad said as he waved you off, soon turning back to the merchant and crossing his arms.

You left quickly, jogging through the stalls with the bag in hand before you reached Ahk, slowing to stand in front of him. He stood with his back against a wall, smiling and straightening when he saw you.

"They're looking for a ride across the ocean, that's all. We can go back up to the tombs now," you informed him, splitting one of the wine cakes and handing half to him.

"Do we have to?"

"With the tablet? It'd probably be best. Don't worry," you said, catching the fall of his face, "we can entertain ourselves just fine."

On the trek back up the hill, you turned to watch the city slowly become more distant, till you stood at the entrance of your hidden treasure, and the lights of the city were nothing more than fireflies in the night. There you took your seat in the dirt, setting the half-empty bag of cakes beside you as you nibbled at your half. Ahk had already finished his on the way back.

From your vantage point you could distantly make out the sound of screaming, and when you squinted your eyes you saw the perpetrator. Statues. You stopped looking after that, moving your attention to the King beside you.

"You don't seem to like Fahad very much," you said, an observation you made earlier in the day, but could only now remark upon.

"He doesn't like me very much either," he pointed out. You nodded, but continued.

"Is there any reason past that?"

"He just doesn't respect you all that much. Nor me, though we know why that is. It's... it's difficult to explain," he said with a sigh, exasperated from his own trouble with words.

"That's kind of you to say," you mumbled, staring at where his fingers dug into the dirt.

"Shouldn't you be getting sleep?" He asked, changing the subject.

"We're sailing tomorrow and none of us can sail, so it's a bit of an off day. Don't worry about me," you said with a soft smile.

"Come here," he said, waving you over. You stared at him as if to say 'what?', but he just motioned again, and in your trust and curiosity you obeyed, sitting down next to him. "You can rest your head on my shoulder. You don't have to sleep."

You set your head on his shoulder, a deep, calming sigh running through your tired lungs as you closed your eyes, leaning into his warmth so stark from the cold of dead night. Nothing but silence.


	3. Apprenticeship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the daytime you learn how to sail, and in the evenings you become Ahk's friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit long!

Before morn you helped the Pharaoh back into his sarcophagus, ignoring the wails of the paintings on the walls as Fahad and Hafa discussed something quietly in the other room. You weren't sure as to the topic, but Ahkmenrah was worried, though for what or why he wouldn't say. Instead he kissed your cheek – a common goodbye for him – and rested his head on the bottom of his coffin. Kissing wasn't anything you were familiar with, but you accepted it nonetheless and closed the sarcophagus when his body went empty.

"I don't care about your camels, those are one in a hundred," you heard the voice of a stranger from the offerings room, a sound that spiked your worry.

Looking past the hills of treasure stored in the back room, you peered into the next room to find Hafa, Fahad, and the merchant from the night before discussing something quietly. Maybe that was what Ahk was worried about – but no, he couldn't have known. You shook your head but continued listening.

"You know what I want," the merchant said, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked over your friends with a glare that would freeze you.

"You're not the one who found the damn loot, we did," Hafa said, her own glare just as powerful as his. "The percentage you're asking for is way too high."

"I don't care. And if you're really debating leaving me behind, if you do, I'll tell every soul in Pelusium. I'm sure you'll enjoy that," the merchant said. Fahad and Hafa turned to each other, whispering quietly. Without you. _Again_.

You hated when they made decisions without you – you understood you were younger than them, less intelligible and less educated, but you were half the brawn in the group. You knew the land. You could fight, and you risked yourself diving into every tomb and abandoned ruin they told you to explore. A sick anger boiled in your stomach, but you dug your nails into your palm, sneaking back into the tomb.

Sitting down next to Ahkmenrah's coffin, you heaved a sigh, letting your head droop between your shoulders. It wouldn't be long till you could talk to him again, but with the whole of the day ahead of you it felt as though it would take forever. You picked at the dirt beneath your nails, listening distantly to the muffled voices, and pretending you couldn't hear them. 

Whatever agreement was reached, no one would tell you. All you knew was that the merchant (whose name was apparently Myron) would carry you across the ocean, and that it was time to pack away the loot. The whole of it was carried in one trip, aided by your camels, which were sold before you sailed. You bid her a reluctant farewell, but it was a price you were accustomed to. The extra coin would aid you in the future.

As much as Hafa and Fahad's secrecy annoyed you, you did trust them. Truly – they had saved your life on several different occasions, though the only reason you almost lost your life was also because of them. Still, their friendship paid well, and you got around much safer by their side. In the past you never would've even thought of legitimately paying for passage from Pelusium to Rome. Even now your head immediately went to _steal the ship_ , but the Captain seemed a nice enough person, and didn't bother any of you too terribly.

"In eight days time we'll see our shore," the Captain said, the same, older man Fahad was bartering with earlier in the tomb. He hadn't yet told you his name, though to be fair, you hadn't told him your own name either.

"Do you sail this route often?" You asked, perched on the ledge leading up to the ship's wheel.

"Why?"

"Just curious," you said.

"... often enough to know the route well," he answered after a moment of thought. You nodded, humming your acknowledgement.

"So how does it move without any rowers?" You asked, half oblivious to the Captain's concentration.

"The sails," he said. "They catch the wind, and if you know how to work them right, any wind can take you where you need to be."

A small smile crossed you – two whole questions and he hadn't yelled at you yet.

The breeze was pleasant for once, as the early morning birds began to disappear from the sky. It was a thing you noticed quite a lot, ever since you first boarded a boat, that the further you got into the ocean the less birds ther were. Probably a normal observation to make (especially to someone like the Captain), but you enjoyed it nonetheless. It was, in a little way, a way to tell how far you were from shore. The deeper into the Mediterranean you got the bigger the hole in your stomach. Sure, you had been on boats before, but it didn't stop the fear of being abandoned at sea. You kept a small comfort close to your chest – Roman boats never sank.

"Is this a Roman boat?" You asked, the thought only now occurring to you that you didn't actually know.

"Aye," the Captain said, looking down at you. "I'm not Roman, though. Don't think I'd ever enjoy being part of such a violent nation with horrid ships."

"They aren't that bad," you said.

"Matter of opinion, then," grumbled the Captain, promptly returning to his wheel.

For the next couple of hours you sat on the ledge between the Captain's roost and the common ground of the boat, watching Hafa and Fahad whispering to themselves in the corner, and helping the Captain where you could. You knew both the difficulty and danger in piloting a ship all alone, so you used what little knowledge you had and helped to order the sails just right while the Captain kept the steering in the right direction.

Throughout the remaining hours of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Captain. It was then you finally introduced yourself by name, and though the Captain told you his own name (Myron, apparently), he didn't use your name, instead calling you by a nickname he'd given you while you were helping him; Veneti. You had absolutely no idea where he got the name from, but it was a far better name than Fahad's name for you. Chicken.

As afternoon lengthened into evening, your aching muscles and exhausted heart reminded you that you worked all day and didn't get more than two hours of sleep last night. You hoped, leaning against the largest mast, that Myron wouldn't need you in the night, but you would have to wait and see. In the meantime you moved down the pole till you sat down, leaning your head backwards and closing your eyes.

Higher waves began to push against the wood of the boat, crashing and sloshing in the current. Salt water sprayed up and over you, jolting you from a deep sleep, from which you awoke to a world of stars above you. Your mouth hung open, caught up in the first thing you saw after your dreams. A world comprised of distant lights, shining their own light, dim compared to the moon.

Sitting up, you looked around the deck, finding Hafa and Fahad missing and the Captain still in his roost. Surprisingly, Ahkmenrah was sitting beside him with a talkative grin. Instinctively you smiled, standing up and joining them, sitting beside Ahk on the step ledge.

"Well, good morning Iyad," he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

"Hi," you said, your smile turning your cheeks red. "Did I miss anything?"

"Your friends went below deck for sleep," Myron informed you, his eye still set on the ocean ahead.

"Oh. Don't you need to sleep too?"

"Can't leave a ship unmanned," he said.

"I can sail it," you offered, both the Pharaoh and the Captain giving you odd looks that had you shrinking into yourself. "I've sailed Egyptian ships down the Nile. It can't be that different, can it?"

"Do you know which direction to go in?" Myron asked, his attention now directed chiefly to you.

"Umm..." you looked around you. Nothing but sea.

"I can read the stars," Ahkmenrah said, earning both yours and the Captain's stares. He shrugged, saying, "I took a class."

"I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in several days. Busy time of year," the Captain said as he stepped back, releasing the wheel. "If anything goes slightly wrong, or if you have any doubts or questions, wake me up."

"Where will you be?"

"Oh, just right here," he said, sitting down on a cushioned bench far behind the steering wheel. Almost instantaneously he began to snore, making you chuckle, despite the fact you knew his body had been trained for years to be able to do that.

"He seems a nice person," said Ahkmenrah, turning from the Captain to you, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Very agreeable," you said.

Standing up, you brushed your long clothes of any dust and dirt, before taking the few steps necessary to stand directly in front of the wheel. You set your hands on the wheel, a nervous smile gracing you as you trilled your fingers against the wood. The handles were still warm. Experimentally you twisted it from side to side, hearing the rudder swish in the water below you.

"Careful there," Ahkmenrah said, halting your movements by setting his hand on yours. You looked expectantly up with wide, curious eyes. "Best stay safe, right?"

Hesitantly you nodded. Safe was good. You could work with safe. Despite being a person who often put themselves in danger, you found it easy to grow too scared, a sensation you had a great distaste for. Maybe that was why Fahad and Hafa treated you as they did, calling you as they do – they were far braver than you. That, or more stupid, as Ahkmenrah called it in your half-asleep conversation last night.

Now, like that moment in time, he stood beside you, staring up at the stars. This time he took his concentration further, looking for specific constellations in a sky dotted with so many stars you could see your shadow on the deck.

"Which way do we go, Ahk?" You asked, your eyes darting between the ocean ahead of you and the man beside you.

"Shhh," he hummed softly. "Don't want to wake him up. I think... we're heading north, right?"

"Yes sir."

"The.. northern.." he muttered to himself, letting you pick up very little till he snapped his fingers. "Northernmost constellation is that way. We head in that direction then, yes?"

"What a talented man you are," you said with a grin, pulling the steering in the direction he pointed.

"Oh, I try so _very_ hard," he teased, only making you smile wider, that familiar blush rising into your face. He had a habit of that, whether you found it good or bad; it was almost... comfortable, to spend time with him.

"Does the Captain know who you are?" You asked softly, leaning in to Ahk to make sure Myron couldn't hear you.

"I don't actually know that," he whispered in reply, the both of you bursting into giggles.

"You took off your wrappings," you finally noticed, looking him up and down in his royal garb. "Maybe he thinks you're just wearing the tomb stuff."

"Possible," he said. "Do you think I should change? I feel like it grabs just a little too much attention."

"When we get to Rome, yes, but..." you cleared your throat, "you look good in that."

He smiled sweetly – like always – and looked down to his robes, fluffing out the golden cape and skirt.

"You think I look good?"

"I mean, you looked good in the wrappings too, I just.. you know," you mumbled, unable to bear looking him in the eye. A shame, really – that made it so you missed the twinkle in his eye and the delight in his blushing grin.

For the next couple hours, the two of you enjoyed one another's company in relative silence, you focused on the waves crashing against the ship's hull and Ahkmenrah caught up in the stars. Every now and then he'd redirect you, but halfway through the night you were beginning to drift off every time you blinked. He didn't notice until you swayed, catching you when you couldn't catch yourself.

"You're exhausted," he noted, his brows furrowed in worry for you.

"I took a nap in the afternoon. I just need a couple minutes and I'll be okay," you mumbled quietly, unable to stop yourself from melting into his arms holding you so sweetly. Everything about him was sweet – from his warm hands to the strong arms encompassing you, to his smile and his words.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just prop me up against this," you said, reaching lazily behind you and rapping your knuckles on the wooden railing. He frowned for a moment, but eventually set you up, letting you lean your head against the steering wheel.

Your sleep was far too deep for you to remember any of your dreams. The only thing you could recall was a swaying motion, but when you awoke to the boat rolling up and down spritzing waves, you knew that part of your sleep was entirely due to your presence on the ship. Slowly you opened your eyes, the first sight you saw being Ahkmenrah's skirt and golden sandals. Still plagued with exhaustion, you forced yourself to look upwards, watching the Pharaoh's concentrated face with a fluttering heart.

You sat right where you were for a minute, trying to convince your body that it was time to wake up. Before you could do so Ahkmenrah noticed your stirring, offering you his hand, which you couldn't decline. He helped you to stand, releasing his post at the wheel for you to take.

"You probably don't even need sleep, do you?" You ask quietly, your voice still rough with exhaustion.

"Not especially," he said, sitting down on the railing and crossing his feet over each other. "I think I sleep plenty during the day."

"Don't you die during the day?"

"When you really think about it, sleep is a bit like a mini-death," he said, words that had you pausing and staring into space, trying to comprehend just what he meant.

"... I guess so," you said slowly, your brow furrowed in a confusion that had him chuckling. "Do you dream, then? When you.. die."

"I'm not sure. I do get visions of sort – they feel very real, though. It... hmm, how can I describe this? It's like you go to this place in the world meant for dead people, but when it comes night, you're returned to your body," he tried to explain.

"Like a free trial for death?"

"Yes! Exactly," he said with a wide grin, delighted you understood him.

"That's... interesting," you giggled. "Is it alright, then? In that other world?"

"A tad bland for my tastes, but from what I've seen it's no Hell," he said with a sigh, letting his head fall back against the railing.

"I've always wondered," you admitted. "I shouldn't be considering my occupation, but I do get worried about dying. There's a lot of cultures that say people like me will be punished for eternity."

"Sounds unpleasant. Worst we had in my time was nonexistence," he said, trailing his fingers over the wood.

"Really?"

"I don't understand the purpose behind being tortured for eternity. It feels more like a propaganda thing to get people to listen to the law."

"Well you're right there," you mumbled beneath the breath, but in the quiet he caught your words, chuckling softly.

"I don't think death is something to be afraid of," he said, looking to the sky. "Perhaps not something to be embraced, but certainly there should be no fear. It is as natural as birth and just as unavoidable."

You looked up with him, staring at the patterns drawn in the star clusters, ignoring the few splinters in your hands from the steering wheel.

"Yeah," you murmured.

As soon as the dawn's first light began to lighten the midnight sky, Myron awoke, bolting straight up with an unintelligible yell that had both you and Ahkmenrah jumping. The Captain looked at you, then to the sea, then to the sky, before he finally stood and stretched.

"We aren't dead. That's a good sign," Myron said with a sigh that morphed into a yawn. He stretched once more before brushing you aside, taking the wheel back into his hands and pulling out a golden compass, decorated intricately with little carvings and marks.

"I told you I could sail a ship," you said, puffing your chest out a little with a sense of pride. You didn't tell either of them, but it had been _several_ years since you last sailed anything.

"I sailed it for half the night," Ahkmenrah said indignantly, though from the upwards quirk of the edges of his mouth, you could tell he was joking.

"Good for both of you," Myron grumbled. "Go fix the mast. Looks loose."

"Oh, um," you paused before obeying, noting the rising sun, "Ahk needs to go below ship. He's got a special sleep schedule."

For a moment Ahkmenrah opened his mouth to protest, but with one glance at your wide, anxious eyes, he said nothing. Myron looked between the two of you, giving nothing more than a nod of understanding.

Taking Ahk's hand in your own, you led him down the short staircase, where the dark of unlit corridors blocked out everything. The scent of salt and old wood bombarded you, making your nose shrivel up. You took a moment to let your eyes adjust, only then finding his sarcophagus, which you opened and helped him into silently.

"See you tonight," you said quietly, staring at the way his fingers rested so softly beneath yours.

"As always," he said, kissing your hand before resting his head down. You set his linen mask over him, waiting till his breathing fully stopped before you closed the coffin, sealing it shut.

Returning up to the surface, you squinted, barely able to see in the brightness of dawn.

"That's why some sea folk wear eye patches," the Captain said, having obviously noticed your discomfort.

"I can see why now," you said in a strained voice, heading towards the mast where the loose knot sat. Untangling it, you pulled till you could draw a knew knot, making sure this one was extra tight.

As you sat back down on your ledge, waiting for Fahad and Hafa to wake up, you drew shapes and lines into your own skin. Testing the feel of it. Wondering if someone elses' hands would be softer – yours were rough from all the rope climbing, but the sensitive, paler skin on the inside of your arm remained as soft as ever. A bit wet from the spritz of salt water, which was quite the difference from your dry, salty palms and fingertips.

Leasing a deep sigh you leaned back, watching the sky turn from black to a blue splattered with pink clouds reflecting the warm light of the sun. Even now you could feel the heat on the back of your neck, letting cold sweat form and drip, already there in preemptive anxiousness for an active day. Lacing your fingers together you gripped yourself tight, turning back to the closed cabin door and waiting for it to open.

The sky, void of any life, hung like a blanket above you, as though a heavy weight had been put on your shoulders. Maybe it was just you – things were beginning to build up in your mind, thoughts you shouldn't be having, and for the first time you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you'd be happier elsewhere. Fahad and Hafa kept you safe, they gave you a nickname and took care of you. Yet still there was something much softer in Ahkmenrah, something you couldn't help adore, no matter how you couldn't pinpoint just what it was. And the way he kissed your hand – short and respectful, always maintaining eye contact, always reverent. You shivered. Bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts.

Once the sun truly rose into the sky, the entirety of it burning through the gentle clouds, Fahad and Hafa stirred and left their cabin. Opening the door, both of them were truly a mess to see. You laughed – their hair, misshapen and clearly not taken care of, sprung like wire from their heads. They didn't take kindly to your amusement.

"Shut up, ocean air makes my hair do weird things," Hafa said, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

"Does the same to my hair," you said as you leant back, a cheeky grin on your face. "That doesn't mean I'm walkin' out of the dark with a rat's nest."

"Keep talking like that and you aren't getting breakfast," Fahad grumbled, rubbing his face tiredly as he tried to accustom himself to the sunlight. His posture dropped, leant against a wooden post.

"I never get breakfast anyway, you eat it all before I can get a bite. Pigs."

"Chicken."

You rolled your eyes and fell silent, swinging your left leg over your right and crossing your arms. Myron heard the entirety of your short conversation, though it must not have processed in his head, as he stared out across the sea with wrinkled, squinting eyes. Behind him the sun continued to rise, casting his shadow long against the dark wood of the boat. Seeing the way his shadow head turned on the planks, you noted your own shadow, watching your own, slow breaths.

Ahkmenrah dressed in such colors – you didn't know till he finally rid of his linen wrappings, but he was donned almost entirely in gold. From the way it brushed against your fingers, you knew it was gold woven into silk, a sign of wealthy royalty you knew all too well. Mostly it reminded you of the time Fahad told you to seduce a Prince, and your surprise in finding it actually worked. Now the memory made you shiver – regret and fear welled in your stomach when you thought of anyone touching you. Somehow Ahk managed to evade that block in your head, though perhaps that was because _you_ were the one initiating the contact.

Day two of your eight day voyage and already your stomach grumbled in hunger, begging you to eat the rations stowed away. You knew not to, you'd be an idiot to _not_ know that, but it didn't stop the uncomfortable, aching and empty feeling in your stomach as you directed the sails the way Myron wanted you to.

"How did you and Ahkmenrah meet?" Myron asked you as midday passed by without thought. As usual you took your seat on the ledge, where Myron could look down on you while keeping his hands on the wheel.

You tried to answer. You really, really did, and usually you were quite good at lying, but you couldn't come up with a feasible story. Something about saving him, maybe – kidnapping did occur to you, but with the way the two of you acted together, there was no way Myron would believe you.

"Found him with some bandits," you finally said, staring at the splinters in the wood. "They were going to sell him for his status so we took him in. He'll find safety in Rome."

"Not part of your troupe, huh?" He said gruffly. No, he wasn't part of your 'troupe', mostly because _he_ was what your troupe stole.

"He's more my friend than anything. I don't think Fahad likes him all that much," you said with a sigh, resting your chin on your palm.

In the wake of dust you stood from your spot, preemptively heading towards Ahk's hiding place beneath the ship. Myron didn't stop you – in fact he said nothing, though he certainly did notice, as his stare was on you until you closed the door behind you.

Darkness surrounded you, accompanied by the thick, unpleasant (yet familiar) stench of salt water and mold mixing into a wonderfully horrible cocktail. Like last time your nose shrunk up, remaining that way till you felt around for the golden sarcophagus and found it within a few seconds. Running your finger along the casing, you reached the lock, clicking it open and untying the thick, tweed rope that kept the lid down. Before you could open the lid it opened on its' own, a hand wrapped in linen pushing it up.

"Ahk, you're awake," you said with a relieved sigh and a grin.

"Evening, Iyad," he said, mimicking your smile and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you into a tight hug. Chuckling, you rested your hand on his head, ruffling his dark curls.

"Miss me?"

"Always," he said as he pulled away.

Helping him out of the coffin, you looked over his hastily drawn linen wrappings and the crinkles in his golden cape, only now able to see in the dark.

"Did you mention getting a change of clothes?" You asked, frowning as you tried to remember your earlier conversations.

"Might've. Can't recall... though I suppose it would be a good idea," he said, looking down at his clothes, stuck to him by his wrappings.

"We might have some new clothes. If not, we could get you something in Rome, that way you could choose what you want to wear," you suggested, earning a thoughtful hum from Ahkmenrah.

"I don't think I should be able to choose," he said. "I won't find anything from this time period fashionable and then I'll never change my clothes, and we can't have that."

"Are you calling our style ugly?"

"A little," he admitted, making the both of you break into laughter.

"Here, how about this," you said in a softer tone, stripping the linen off him. 

He aided you till he stood free of the wrappings, though when you tried to continue stripping him further, he stopped helping, adamant to only watch you. He didn't raise his arms or anything – even when you asked him to. No, he just laughed, and even in the dark you could feel the heat of your cheeks burning.

"I'm not trying to undress you," you said, trying to hold back either tears or laughter. You couldn't tell.

"Really? 'Cause it seems like that's exactly what you're trying to do."

"Ahk," you said as you shook your head, unable to stop smiling. "I'm trying to simplify your outfit. The cape's a bit much, isn't it?"

"... I like it," he mumbled, reaching for his silk cape behind him and caressing it in his tanned fingers.

"So do I, but it's not very practical on a boat."

He sighed but relented, allowing you to strip him of his beaded collar and his cape, till all that remained was a golden skirt still decorated in a massive amount of gold and gems.

"Can this come off?" You asked, furrowing your brow in concentration as you tugged at his solid gold belt.

"Not in a boat basement. On a bed, yes," he said suddenly, and though the words felt humorous, your immediate thought was that he was being serious.

"I'm – I'm n– I'm just trying to – to get the belt off, not the whole skirt," you stammered with wide eyes, far too aware of your own blushing.

"Deep breaths Iyad, I was only teasing," he said with a grin, pulling your hands away from your face and holding them in his own. "I'd do it anywhere for you."

You could've sworn your heart stopped beating. Since when did he put you in such a fluster? It was probably your own fault, insisting he needed to strip of all his layers – nonetheless, you stopped breathing when he reached for his belt, leasing it from his thin waist and skirt. With a lump in your throat you watched and felt him kiss your temple before walking past you, leaving the door open for you to follow him.

It took a good minute or so, but you regained feeling in your limbs, and exited the cabin to the darkening sky above you. A cool breeze hit you immediately, refreshing and welcome compared to the dank of mold. Myron was right – Roman ships weren't terribly good. In fact they weren't very good at all. The ships in Egypt, the ones made by indigenous people, were much better. No weird smells, no strange aerodynamics – just the smooth sailing of white sails and a pleasant wind.

Glancing around, you found Ahkmenrah beside the Captain, the both of them looking over a small object in Myron's hands. You tip-toed your way up, looking over Ahk's shoulder to see a complex golden object. Gears seemed to wind in it, marks on the rim labelling the different pointers, and a gold cross of sorts in the center.

"Veneti," the Captain said, nodding to you. "This is an astrolabe. Ahk thought it was interesting."

"It's very... confusing looking," you said rather blankly, wondering where one would start in trying to decipher this circular object.

"How do you use it?" Ahk asked with curious eyes.

"At it's core, it's a mix of the planisphere and the dioptra. Another one of those Greek inventions, helps you calculate problems in astronomy," he explained, though the words flew over your head, and they _definitely_ flew over Ahk's head. Higher than the clouds it reached you, which means it never did, but the both of you just smiled and nodded as though you understood. Myron seemed to like that.

As with the night before Myron laid himself down on the nearby cushions, letting you and Ahk take over till dawn. You commandeered for a little while, but exhaustion did eventually reach you, at which point Ahk took your place and let you sleep. Just as last time you leaned against the steering wheel's base, watching the way his skirt swayed until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.

"Iyad," Ahk said softly, stirring you from a pleasant dream about whittling next to a fire. 

Mumbling incoherently you pried your eyes open, watching Ahk's amazed expression cast into the distance. You followed his line of sight, seeing in the dark of night a tail, and a very large one, duck beneath the water with a great _splash_.

"What the hell was that?" You said, shocked into consciousness. That tail was bigger than the ship's own rudder, and that meant it could probably kill you. Your heart was already pounding nervously.

"Don't worry," he whispered, though his eye never strayed from the ripple effect, just waiting for the creature to breach again. "It's been here a couple minutes. I don't think it's going to hurt us."

Taking your hands, he helped you to your feet, leading you over to the ship's rail where the two of you could hang off and watch the ocean. The cool of night tingled against your skin, combated only by the warmth of Ahk's hand in yours. Slowly the waves rolled, gently rocking you side to side, pushing the two of you together as seafoam spritzed onto your feet. By his command you watched carefully, spying dark movement in the water and tapping his hand.

"Over there," you murmured, pointing to the shadow and never letting your eye stray from it. He leant down to your height, pressing his eye as close to yours as possible, following your line of sight before he caught it.

"Wow," he breathed out, the both of you entranced on the slow movements.

Waves burst around its' form when it came up for air, revealing only its sleek, grey back shining in the moonlight. One tiny fin sat low on its spine, and near the head a blowhole made way for a spurt of water, coming down like mist upon the boat. You laughed – it had been forever since you'd felt anything like rain, no matter how salty or fresh. Ahk seemed to be enjoying himself too, holding his hands out to feel the water fall.

"Oh, what do you think it is?" You said, now brimming with excitement as you practically hung off the boat's rail. At your antics he chuckled, placing a hand on your back to warn you away from falling.

"No idea, but it is beautiful, isn't it?" He said softly, inching himself closer yet to you till his arm was wrapped around your middle, pulling your hips against his.

"And massive," you mumbled, still too caught up in the creature's shadow to notice his warmth, attention too stiff to notice his thumb rubbing circles into your waist.

From the little the two of you saw of the creature, you could note a large, oval-like body, with a thick-finned tail that spread out like wings. You couldn't quite see if it had any fins, though Ahkmenrah insisted he saw them alongside a white underbelly. Duty slipped your mind as you discussed the creature, eventually finding papyrus and ink, from which the both of you added the details you could see, the most notable being a water spout that brought about mist from the ocean.

"It's always wonderful," he noted softly, watching the shadow swim away as you kept to the steering wheel, "to see something so wondrous with someone wondrous themselves."

"Are you saying I should be thankful I saw it with you?"

"No," he hummed as he came up behind you. "Just that I'm glad to have your company."

He loved the stars, and the silence – it took several days, but by the sixth evening spent with him, you began to pick up on it. Little things delighted him, which was not something you expected from a Pharaoh. Neither did Fahad and Hafa. But they closed their minds from a truthfully wonderful person, and never learned he was far beyond the image of long dead Kings. _They_ were the ones missing the friendship of one so curious, so openly affectionate, and so openly kind. You almost pitied them, but most mornings they barred you from eating breakfast, so you weren't all that disappointed in them missing out.

Although your excitement had been previously vested in playing Chaturanga with Hafa throughout the long trip, your mind wandered constantly to the Pharaoh, and you spent most of your time helping the Captain. It was fine – you probably would've lost most of the rounds considering the only time you played it was when Hafa was teaching you how it worked. A fun little game from Persia, where she had grown up.

You weren't sure how it happened, but Ahkmenrah began to make a habit of kissing your temple. Not for any special occasion or anything – just randomly, out of nowhere, or when you woke him in the evenings and put him to rest in the mornings. Whenever he decided to land one on you, no matter when it was your heart always fluttered and you found yourself at a loss for words for a good while. 

Despite those butterflies you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it – you did, and quite a lot, though your favorite time was when you were steering. You'd be standing in the Captain's place, your gaze hardened on the ocean ahead of you, and he'd come up with a hand on your waist and peck your forehead. It instantly broke your little show, making you giggle and push him away.

He didn't really get your behavior around him, but he nonetheless enjoyed putting you into a blushing fluster.

Over the days your liking towards the Pharaoh strengthened. Unfortunately for him, that was not your favorite aspect of the trip. No, that place was taken by your knew ship-related knowledge, a sort of apprenticeship budding beneath Myron's wing. He wasn't always kind (in fact was usually bitter), but he knew his stuff, and you were always up for learning new things. With your lifestyle, you couldn't afford _not_ to learn. So you took advantage of his willingness to teach, memorizing ropes and knots, sails and barges in every way you could. 

By the eighth day you saw distant mountains, barely shadows through the fog. It marked land, and though excitement pounded through you at the prospect of Roman food, there was a part of you that would miss sea life. Maybe you could convince Fahad and Hafa to live as ocean pirates, or as smugglers. They might like that life, but you didn't mention it to them, instead keeping it to yourself till you fully mulled over the option.

You docked at midnight. Myron stayed quiet and you mimicked him, following him off the boat to help it stay right where it was throughout the night. The Pharaoh had awoken only an hour earlier, and instead kept post at the wheel. Just in case. You watched him, your gaze flickering instinctively to him while you followed Myron's orders, rolling up the sails and dropping anchor at the bay. Working together the two of you finished rather quickly, and you immediately went to rejoin Ahk at the helm while Myron went to get some genuine sleep below deck.

"We're here," you said with a grin, standing shoulder to shoulder with him in front of the wheel.

"Indeed," he said, his eyes downcast and words quiet. You noted it with concern, but waited a moment before saying anything.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I... I'm just worried Fahad will sell me in the day," he said, and a pang of _something_ ran through your heart – something you rarely felt, especially not towards others. Worry? Fear? Sympathy? None of them sounded quite right.

"I won't let that happen," you assured him softly, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Iyad."


	4. Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so long!! i was so busy for the week i couldnt find time to write and eventually i got so stressed out by not writing that i had to stay up all night just to write and this is half a product of that!

Ahkmenrah's sleep schedule varied so differently from Fahad and Hafa's that it left you exhausted all the time. You took a few pointers from Myron – intermittent naps, sleeping while still standing up – you know, unhealthy things. It wasn't a great tactic for the body, but it kept you awake in the afternoon ranging into evening. Midnight you napped, then woke, taking another nap when the sun rose.

Unfortunately, your tactics would have to be torn down to suit your coming days in Rome. Fahad and Hafa had yet to tell you how long the three of you would be staying, but you assumed it was a good while, as they rented out a caupona room (one for each of you, actually) by selling one of the ancient golden armbands you found in the tomb. You watched with a curious eye as they handed it to the owner, the caupo, who scanned critically before accepting

* * *

You stayed quiet as you smuggled the bounty into the caupona. Per Fahad's advice, the loot was split between your three rooms and below deck on Myron's ship, as to ensure if one spot was found, there would still be a decent enough pay to go around. When he first mentioned this idea, your immediate thought went to Ahk – he should be in your room, not anyone elses'. Somewhere you could take care of him, and make sure Fahad doesn't sell him. Of course, you didn't tell him this, at least not until you were carrying the sarcophagus up the caupona stairs.

Your room, while certainly smaller than Fahad's or Hafa's, had a wonderful view of a town center where a number of people gathered to eat in the restaurants beside the marble water fountain. It took until afternoon for you to notice, but once you did it occupied your time for a little while. Fahad and Hafa would be off doing a deal – at least that's what they told you, and ever one for avoiding official business, you elected to stay in the caupona in case anyone tried to come snooping.

The thought of Myron did come to you when you watched the way the water flowed, reminding you of the ocean waves you'd gotten so used to. It was almost strange now, to walk without swaying – you wondered if getting drunk would yield the same effects, but left the hypothesis for later. Maybe you and Ahk could mull it over. In the meantime you went over what Myron taught you, praying you wouldn't forget anything.

While you had little knowledge on the daily crowds in the streets of Rome, you _did_ know how crowded the streets got on several different festivals. You, unfortunately, couldn't recall the name of any of them, but watching how people pushed past and fell in the grain of the crowd told you enough. Vinalia Priori – or whatever Fahad had called it – seemed to be a popular enough festival. With the way the markets opened in the little center your window overlooked, you could tell that selling during this time would be a good idea. Fahad was _always_ good with timing.

You didn't have a schedule. Not like Fahad, at least – your method was more to do whatever you wanted and leave when soldiers started chasing you. At least that's what you did before meeting Fahad, though now, with your body and mind accustomed to a certain routine, you wondered if you could ever go back to that wandering state of yours. Thus your mind circled back to Ahkmenrah, who sat in his sarcophagus on the other side of the room.

His death mask, donned entirely in gold and lapis, covered only the most basic feature's of the man's face. Curved nose, yes, but not the right type of lip. His cheeks were a little too full, and his eyes too large, though admitting to the artist's mistake meant in turn admitting you'd been staring at his face long enough to be able to differentiate his facial features from the 'perfect face' problem many artists had. You couldn't really help it anyway – he was simply nice to look at. It didn't need to be more than that.

Staring at his heavy coffin set aside the back wall, you slumped against the window, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought. Myron left with Fahad and Hafa just an hour or two ago, landing you in waiting duty with the loot. There was quite literally _nothing_ to do; you couldn't leave, you couldn't read, you couldn't talk to Ahk, hell, you wondered if you could even afford bathroom breaks. Fahad would have your skull on a mantle if you ended up losing the gold. Of course, that didn't stop you from imagining the many things you could do. There was a whole little market right below your room and you had all the money in the world.

The more you thought about it, the more the image settled itself in your mind as the norm. It couldn't hurt all that much – no one knew about your arrival except the caupo, and Fahad already payed him off. No one would notice if you took a couple gold coins or rings. No one would notice if you took a massive sack of them either. You kept thinking on it for a few more minutes, staring down at the bustling marketplace, before deciding that an hour or two wouldn't hurt. If anything, you could get gifts for everyone to make sure no one criticized your poor decision making skills.

In an excited rush you grabbed your mostly-empty coin purse, filling it with the spoils from a particularly heavy chest, and making off with a grin on your face. There was no specific plan in your head – mostly just the image of you carrying the spoils of a Roman festival, which was about as close to a plan as your brain got. With your quickened pace it took mere minutes to get out of the caupona and into the little center, twisting and turning as you tried to decide which sign caught your fancy the most.

Several of the stalls were simple fast food places, usually selling quickly-made foods that costed less than the time-consuming dishes. They were a favorite of yours, always convenient for your on-the-go lifestyle, even if they weren't the healthiest choices. As for the other stalls, the good lot of them were actually antiques – you'd be selling your own (stolen) antiques soon enough, but for the moment you vested interest in the ancient artifacts of other cultures.

Like a miniature version of the city of Rome, people of all walks of life gathered, a few initiating short conversations with you. You kept a smile on your face – whether or not you wanted to – and enjoyed yourself greatly in the mixing pot. Fiddling with your coin purse, your eyes flickered to every glittering necklace and hanging sistrum, wondering what you could get. An instrument would be good fun in the nights, but a new cheche would be wonderful.

With a preoccupied mind, time slipped away from you, and in a matter of hours the sun was making to set and your purse was empty. You succumbed to the purchase of several different scarves (a few of which you promise to share with Hafa), two silver braces, a drum, a new outfit for Ahk, and a selection of preserved fruits. Attempting to balance everything in your arms, you stumbled your way back to the caupona, and dropped the winnings onto your bed a minute before sunset. You sat back down in your chair, waiting eagerly for Ahkmenrah to awaken.

"Iyad?" Came a soft, subdued voice from behind the golden deathmask, a gentle tap sounding against the coffin lid as the last of the sun's light left the world.

Instantly you stood, making your way to him and unlatching the door. Taking his linen-wrapped hand in yours, you led him out, shutting the lid before helping him out of the wrappings. They fell to the floor and revealed Ahk, his smile casting a reflection on your face.

"How are you doing?" You asked, brushing stray dust and strings off his shoulders.

"Quite alright. This is Rome, then?" He looked the wooden walls, eyes instantly drawn to the window, where you'd spent a good three hours thinking about him not too long ago.

"This is my room, which is only a very small section of Rome. Fahad and Hafa are out with Myron, dealing with sales and all that... leaves us alone with a _lot_ of coin and a whole city to see," you said, leaning in as you smile suggestively. He caught on to your plot, grinning slyly as he did.

"Is Rome anything like the Dendera of my day?" He asked as you took his hand, leading him to your closet. There you stored the outfit you'd gotten him, and upon opening the doors, you watched his expression carefully for any sign of liking or disliking.

"I'm afraid I don't know what Dendera was like, but I can tell you Rome is a place of many people. Lots of parties, especially around festivals, one of which happens to be within the week," you said, rolling on your heels.

His eye moved between you and the outfit, eventually resting on the flowing white shirt and the skirt. They were a matching set, both of them pure white with a gold and blue lining that ran from the shoulders down to the skirt's seam. It was a little short, cutting off just above Ahk's knees, but he didn't seem to mind, tugging at his current skirt. You looked instinctively away, a maddeningly bright blush coming to your cheeks as he changed.

"Does it look alright?" He asked when he finished, presenting himself to you while you slowly reopened your eyes, letting the image of him sink into your mind.

The most notable thing about it was his waist – a golden tassel tied and separated the skirt from the shirt, the tightness of it showing off a skinny waist. His legs were equally revealed, soft and limber muscle contrasted well in its' dark skin against the white cloth. Your throat grew thick.

"You look good," you said softly, uncharacteristically high, strangely quiet, especially for you. He noticed, he had to have, but he must have liked it, because he just smiled and stepped closer to you, taking your hands in his.

"Anything planned for the evening?"

"Dinner," you said rather lamely, "and then I'm thinking of breaking and entering?"

"Sounds fun. What are we breaking into?" He asked, opening the bedroom door for the both of you to leave.

"I was thinking a church," you said.

"Never been to one, but I'm sure you wouldn't lead me astray," he said with a teasing grin, earning a soft elbow in the stomach from you.

With tourism at a high, it soon became difficult to stick together amongst the many multi-cultural people. Voices rang out with calls of names and promises of good fortune – both friends and merchants, bakers, metalworkers, artisans, and poor alike gathered amongst the busy streets. After the third time you lost him you took his hand, keeping it safe in yours as you navigated the streets that did nothing but confuse him. You hadn't ever stayed in Rome for very long, but you still had an uncanny sense of direction, and knew the pathways far better than Ahk did.

Most of ancient Egypt and its' mysteries were already lost to time, but there was one thing about them that you did know, aside from the fact that their Pharaohs were actually rather nice; their cities were in a specific layout. Streets and houses were placed in a grid, neat and even so as to keep the city clear and focused. Rome was not at all like that – the streets winded around, houses built in the strangest of places, the whole of the city overcrowded with people who wanted to make this place their home. That meant houses a couple feet wide and a hundred feet long, and apartment stacked on top of each other above bakeries and restaurants.

Smoke off chimneys rose into the sky, clouding out the already dim stars hanging above you. One might expect the city to grow quieter in the night, allowing for children to sleep and mothers to relax, but this was a city far too absorbed in its' own hedonism. You loved that – doing what you wanted just for pleasure. Ahk seemed right at home as well, easily conversing with those who you wouldn't dare approach.

As the clouding of the sky grew worse, the sliver of moon disappeared, leaving the streets lit by nothing but the oil and candle lamps lining every storefront. His hand still in yours, Ahk grinned, eyes glittering with their firelight, both of your hearts thumping with excitement. There was anything you could do that night. Both of you carried your own coin purses, though the bulk of it was saved for the dinner you were leading him to.

The last time you were in Rome, you found a seedy restaurant in a back alley where stray dogs congregated. At the time you had little money, so you stayed there for dinner, finding the food to be better than a decent 70% of the cuisine in Rome. Sometimes cities were like that – the best gems hidden in filth, hidden away from the upper class and the close-minded.

Leading him through alleyways and shortcuts, the crowd began to thin, making way for the quietude of the less-inhabited streets. Despite that he still kept your hand in his, squeezing it whenever he caught sight of something interesting. Of course, what qualified as interesting to him didn't do the same for you, but nonetheless you looked and pretended it was something new. Things like lamps and store signs, vibrant colors that must've been hard to come by in Egypt a thousand years ago.

Soon you reached the restaurant, your quick stride halted suddenly in front of the windows glowing with warm light, the scent of stirfry teasing your tongue. You grinned thoughtlessly, happy to simply be back somewhere familiar and safe.

"It's owned by this family," you told him quietly, moving to open the door for the both of you. "They're very nice, but just stay quiet. A lot of people live near here."

"Of course," he mumbled, his attention caught by steam rising from a large pot of stew.

"Evening," you said with a grin, approaching the counter to address the lady on the other side. "I'll have a plate of the pesto pasta with the veggie fry."

"Alright. Anything else?" She asked, keeping her tone polite but curt. You nodded, motioning Ahk over.

He kept staring at the menu, his gaze flickering to the back kitchens every now and then.

"Ahk?" You said in a whisper, tugging on his short sleeve. Instantly he turned to you, his eyes wide and expectant. "Do you need help ordering?"

"I... I just don't know what they sell here," he whispered back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You kind of have to ask. What sounds good?"

"Um... do you have any meat platters?" He asked, his time to the woman at the counter.

"Yes, one with olives and cheese and one with dried fruits," she said.

"What kind of fruits?"

“Plums, dates, figs... that kind of thing.”

“And are these sweetened?”

"Ahk, just get the fucking platter," you sighed, shaking your head despite the grin on your face.

"Alright, fine, fruit one it is. Thank you," he said with a small bow, leaving the second he uttered his last word. You followed behind, sitting down with him at a candle-lit wooden table.

The table sat in the corner of the restaurant, away from the doors and windows, and the furthest away from the one other customer. He was eating by himself, staring at the small vase of flowers in front of him. Your table had its' own vase as well – a selection of red and yellow flowers, framed by long leaves and tiny, white flowers.

Even from your spot far away from the door, you could still hear the shouts of drunken patrons on the other side of the alleyway, where a popular tavern stirred trouble in a residential neighborhood. None of that mattered, though – not when you turned back to Ahk, finding him staring at your hand and tracing your veins with his finger. Suddenly it was the only thing you could feel.

"What do you think of Rome so far?" You asked, trying to talk past the lump in your throat.

"Certainly interesting. I don't enjoy not being able to read a good lot of the signs, but I suppose that's to be expected in any foreign place," he said conversationally, as though he wasn't tripling your heart rate.

"A lot of people here can't read, if that makes you feel any better," you said, giggling. "I can't read Latin. The Church doesn't really want the people to be literate. Probably some sort of power play, but... well, it doesn't really affect me."

"Many people in my home can't read either. To be fair, reading hieroglyphs is incredibly hard sometimes. Have you ever tried to?"

"I don't think anyone in the past hundred years has tried to read hieroglyphs," you said bluntly, earning a chuckle from him that had you perking up.

"Perhaps I shall demonstrate to you its' difficulty. Not now, though – haven't got any paper or pencil. Later. You'll have to remind me," he said, leaning his weight forward.

"I'll try to remember," you giggled. "But tell me about your home. We've lost so much of your world."

"That's unfortunate, really," he said, his tone suddenly softening. "I think you would've liked it in Memphis. There was always something going on. Didn't mean it was good, but it certainly was exciting."

The two of you laughed, you behind your cheche, and him with a toothy, lop-sided grin. Sometimes you forgot he couldn't see your face, and probably never had. While he continued, you tried to remember when you could've taken off your mask, only to come up empty. Had he really never seen your whole face before?

"- of course, people have always been afraid of what's different from them, so that sort of reaction is to be expected. I believe the soul of a human is truly tried and wins when it is presented with the new, and even if there is fear, they learn about this new thing anyway. It's... to fear is natural, but to know there is good _past_ that irrational fear, that is to be truly human and truly kind," he said, tapping his finger in an even beat against the back of your hand.

"I agree," you said as you nodded thoughtlessly, at a loss for what else you could say. You didn't even know what he was talking about.

"My father wasn't always a good man or a good King, but he did not shy away from the new. He wasn't a heretic or anything, but I think hiring Adom helped out, and I got a friend out of it, so I'm happy."

"Um, sorry.. who's Adom?" You asked reluctantly.

"Oh, right, of course. Adom was our palace physician. He was actually a magician too, but he wasn't ordained as a priest, um... anyway, good man, took care of my father and stood in his court. He was good at his job, but he had this - this inky black skin and pale white hair. Pure white, actually. His child was that way too, but I think they were adopted, which threw me off," he said, a grin on his face as he looked at the floor, caught up in his memory.

"Would've confused me too," you assured him.

"Yeah, the, uh... the city didn't like him all that much. Later on, when I was Pharaoh, I appointed Adom's child, Piye, as my vizier. The palace staff did _not_ like that, but their prejudice wasn't really my problem. Besides that, I think the people of Memphis were good and kind. Wealth can do that to a population," he said, motioning vaguely with his hand that wasn't enraptured in your heat.

"Well, when you're not concerned over where your next meal is coming from, it gives you the peace of mind to deal with stress and fear in a more healthy way," you said.

"Very well put," he said with an almost proud grin. "Oh, food's here."

A woman, different from the one at the counter, emerged from the kitchen in the back. She carried two plates in her hands, setting them down in front of you.

"Enjoy," she said, offering a curt bow of her head before she left.

For a couple minutes the two of you indulged in your dishes, savoring the flavor and talking sparingly through mouthfuls. As usual, your order was incredibly well done, the vegetables mixing easily with the pasta to make a dish mix. You hadn't ever ordered the sort of platter that Ahk did, but apparently it was also excellent. He finished the fruit first, mumbling something about fruit back in Memphis before falling silent, enraptured in his food.

Thinking back on your time together, you couldn't recall him ever eating. If you thought back hard enough, you had a vague memory of him saying he didn't need to eat, which soothed a few of your worries. You were a bit like him in that aspect – didn't need to eat all that much, and you didn't care what food tasted like on the road. Yes, you had a penchant for fancy restaurants in the cities, but that was off time. When it really counted (like in the desert), you could do fine without food for about three days before your energy started to noticeably lag.

After about ten minutes the two of you shared your plates with one another, commenting on the differences and taste. Fahad and Hafa never did that with you – probably because they didn't have a thing for food like you did, thus Ahk's appearance in your life once more lightened things up. Maybe it was just that the two of you were around the same age, but you truly were happier with him around. It was funny to think of, watching him go off on another rant about wealth disparity, that one person, _one_ change, could make you so much happier. It was funny to think that it was _him_.

"Do you think they sell wine here?" He asked out of the blue, interrupting his own speech.

"They do, but it's not great. Good wine comes from the markets more near the center, and we're still in the edge of the city," you said, recalling your many bouts with the different wines sold in Rome.

While you were a good connoisseur for cheese and cured meats, wine was a mystery, made so by your preference of beer and the sheer price of wine anywhere outside Rome. In Cairo, you could buy a mug of beer for a couple copper coins, but a glass of wine costed several silver coins. In Rome, however, wine was far more accessible, replacing beer as the must-have drink of the world. Even slaves had it, though theirs was far more bitter than the upper class.

"What do you say we get a bottle of wine and drink it while we're in your church?" He asked softly, leaning forward in time with you so only you could hear him.

"As long as it's a _really_ nice bottle," you said with a grin, earning the silent assurance of your friend.

You left after another hour of conversation, moseying up the streets with full stomachs and high spirits. Midnight would soon come, and with that the darkness of blown out candles, leaving you and Ahk alone in the night. Slowly your eyes adjusted, barely able to make out Ahk's figure standing right beside yours. For balance – _only_ for balance, no other reason you told yourself – you kept your shoulder against his, his fingers brushing against yours as you walked.

It didn't take too long till the pedestrian street merged with a market street, a stream of people flowing steady down the cobblestone path which was once more lit by candles and lamps, most of which were hung by merchants. Through the glass windows, golden light shone distorted in the panes. Most of the stores still open were restaurant types, with bread baked that morning and jugs of cheap wine on the counter. Now that it was much later, the crowd had certainly thinned, and you did not have to stay close or entwined to Ahkmenrah. You still did, though. He was warm.

For better wine, the two of you would have to wait a little more till you reached the better shops. Ones specialized in wine making and selling, where you could take small tastes, and complimentary chartreuse boards boasted wealth. You weren't wealthy, you never had been, but you'd experienced it before, during your time with a previous Prince you were stealing from. Now you were returning, standing in front of the same shop with your own gold in hand. Well, Ahk's gold, but he didn't seem to mind all that much.

Opening the door slowly, you winced at the creak of floorboards beneath your feet, gingerly entering the shop. Two people stood behind the counter, one cleaning the glasses and the other going over a sheet of papyrus. You and Ahk looked to each other at the same time, both of you silently wondering where to start on your search. He had proficient knowledge of wines, but only of Egyptian wine, and you had no expertise whatsoever. You _enjoyed_ wine certainly, but you knew no names.

Eventually, staring at the rack occupying a whole wall and filled with dark bottles, you turned back to the man reading the papyrus. He would probably be able to help you, at least more than staring at unlabelled, clay bottles would.

"Excuse me, sir," you said quietly, smiling politely when he looked up at you, "could you give us a little tour of your best wines? My friend and I are from Egypt and we don't know very much about them."

The man's gaze trailed slowly over to Ahk, who was tapping his chin with his forefinger thoughtfully. He quirked a single brow at Ahk's curious form, which, to be fair, you had done before, before he stepped out from behind the counter.

"Of course. My name is Naevius," he said, offering his hand.

"Iyad. Nice to meet you," you said as you shook his hand. "This is my friend, Ahk."

Naevius bowed his head curtly before turning to the wine rack, his eye wandering up to the higher bottles first.

For the proceeding ten minutes he explained the process of making and selling wine, and how that influenced the taste and quality, listing several things you already knew. White wine was 'better', wine was affordable for everyone, and wonderful for dinner parties. The only thing that your brain actually absorbed was that Amenian grapes were the best, and that the wine produced from it had several different brands. According to Naevius, the best brand of that best grape was Falernian, a wine in high demand with the upcoming festival of, apparently, wine. Fahad hadn't told you what Vinalia Priora was about.

His method was a roundabout way of selling you one of their best bottles – a Falernian grown and made in Naples, where Greek, Italian, and Roman winemaking methods melded into one. It was a vintage from several years ago, and the two of you pooled your coins together to pay, happily taking the jug with you when you left.

"Expensive stuff. I hope it tastes good. This is white wine, yes?" Ahk asked, holding up the clay jug and observing it closely.

"I think so," you said with a frown, leaning in closer to search for any label. There were none, but the cap of the bottle carried an insignia, a calligraphic 'F' burned into the cork. You met his eye and shrugged.

"I'm sure it'll taste fine either way. Now, where's this church?"

You led him wordlessly up the streets, turning back every now and then to make sure he was still following you. He always was, a soft smile on his face, tanned fingers wrapped around the wine. Even past midnight there were people out, though far less than usual, most of them heading home or closing up shop. Not you, though – you took Ahk's hand and led him to the Pantheon.

"This used to be a place of great worship and veneration," you murmured, half panting from the long walk. Ahk came up beside you, his own chest pushing up and down as he stared at the white pillars. "Then they turned it into a Church to worship a mortal prophet by the name of Jesus. That was... maybe five hundred years ago?"

"I've never heard of them," he said quietly, looking down at you.

"He didn't get popular until a couple hundred years ago," you said with a shrug, taking the first step forward, soon followed by Ahk.

"You seem to know a lot about this fellow," he said.

"When you talk to a lot of people, you get a lot of insight into really useless things," you said, making Ahk chuckle.

"That I've experienced. I remember once, my father and I were looking at settlements up the river, and we happened upon a woman whose house sat very near to the Nile. My father asked her why, since the Nile floods every year, and she said that it wasn't actually her house. It was a place of work – I think she was selling fish bait, that or some sort of hunting equipment. Anyway, I didn't think much of it until the topic of fishing came up between myself and a friend of mine, she asked why fish bait was so expensive..." he paused, the two of you coming to face the tall doors, "... had to tell her it was because the people who sell it risk their lives every summer."

"There must be better ways of selling bait rather than to catch it fresh yourself _and_ risk your safety at the same time," you said as your eye wandered over the walls, wondering how you could get inside. The pillars wouldn't be easy to climb, but with the complicated carvings in the wall, you could probably scale the wall itself pretty easily.

"One would think! Are we going inside or up there?" He asked, pointing to one of the bell towers. You paused.

"I was thinking of going inside, but now that you mention it, that bell tower looks fantastic," you said, looking over his shoulder.

"On we go then," he said with a smile, placing a hand on the small of your back and guiding the two of you away from the double doors.

Silently you took the jug of wine from him, using a spare bit of cloth to tie it to your waist, much in the same way you'd done with his tablet long ago. Tightening the knot, you jumped up onto the wall and began the slow path up. He followed once there was space to do so, his steps less hurried and more careful, unlike your frantic pace. The bricks proved to be incredibly helpful, acting as anchors for your feet and hands. Arched windows impeded you a couple times, but you used them to your advantage, scaling up the windows and walls till you reached the white base of the bell tower.

There were no stairs up there, no ladders leading into the Pantheon. Just a rope to pull the bell with, tied down far below you, through the wooden floor sat beneath the bell. Adjusting yourself beside the bell, you breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. A moment later Ahk joined you, his own breath heavy as he looked out across the city, going over every street that ran like scars down the vast complexes.

The smoke and light pollution of the city dimmed the stars drastically compared to their state out in the desert, but a few of the brighter ones still shone through the thin smoke layer that crowded the sky. He sat close to you, and soon, in your quiet, thoughtless daze, you rested your head against his shoulder. It was a position you were becoming quite familiar with, whether for better or worse.

"It really is luck that you found me," he murmured in the silence.

"I thought you didn't like it here."

"Oh no, I... I was just scared. The world seems to be just as it was, which is a testament to the continuity of the human spirit, and now that I've seen it I'm not scared anymore. There are no greater threats than those posed in my time, and I got to make a friend. Only took a couple thousand years," he said with a grin, earning a blushing chuckle from you.

"If it's worth anything, I'm glad I met you," you said, soft as you stared down at your dangling feet hanging side by side with his.

"Of course it's worth something," he hummed as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. "I will always find worth in your word."

You smiled thoughtlessly, your blush worsening even as he leaned back, looking up to the sky. Sometimes you forgot just how sweet he was – other times it was all you could think about.

"Want to open this up now?" You asked, raising the jug of wine.

"Ooh, yes!"

"Now remember," you said, twisting the cork off, "Roman wine is _very_ strong. We won't want to finish all of this before we get down."

"I'll try my best. Have you ever had this kind of wine before?"

"Roman wine? Yes. Not this brand, though... what did that guy call it again?"

"F.. falernius?" He tried hesitantly.

You shrugged, setting the cork down beside you as you sniffed the drink. God, it was sweet – a bit like candied grapes, but in liquid form. Naevius had mentioned something about honey and water added to the wine to sweeten it, but you couldn't quite recall it. Tilting it carefully upward, you took a sip, testing the feel of it on your tongue. It was definitely strong, warming your mouth and throat, but softer than the cheaper wines. More smooth.

Handing the jug to him, you watched carefully as he too sipped from it. In the angle he tilted it you caught the sharp of his jawline, his adam's apple bobbing, the soft of his skin in the dim light. You looked away.

"Not bad," he said, scanning the bottle. "Not bad at all. Quite a lot sweeter than I was expecting."

"I thought the same thing. I like it, though," you said as you swung your feet back and forth.

"Certainly. Different, but good."

The two of you sat there for a good while, handing the bottle back and forth and taking small swallows till the bottle began to lighten and your vision swayed. A pleasant tingling sensation filled your limbs as your half-lidded eyes stared at distant lights. If you concentrated you could probably see the difference between city lights and starlight, but you couldn't find it in you to care enough to do so.

He kept close to you, his skin suddenly hot against yours, heated by your blush and the drink. As much as he flirted and comforted you, he never grew bashful like you did. No one expected a thief like yourself to get all flustered, but you couldn't help it, especially when he smiled wide and his dimples appeared on each cheek, so kissable and yet you still had yet to do it. God, he was close – was he leaning in?

"What in the _hell_ are you doing up there Iyad?!" Fahad's voice shouted from far below, shocking you out of the pleasant buzz you and Ahk had created. A pit formed in your stomach. "You're supposed to be protecting the fucking stuff, not off getting drunk with it!"

"Oh boy," you muttered in a grimace, pulling an instinctive belt of laughter from Ahk, which was only silenced by Fahad's glare.

Plugging the bottle back up, you tied it to your waist, beginning your descent. Ahk came after you, jumping from a low height onto the brick road and rushing to your side. Fahad stood in front of both of you, his arms crossed and a seething anger in his lips, pressed into a thin, white line. Behind him Hafa and Myron stood looking far less bothered.

"I can't trust you with shit anymore, can I? Ever since you met this mummy you've been childish and disobedient. I have a good mind to treat you just as you act," he berated you, pointing an accusatory finger right in your face and jamming it against your nose.

"Did you really expect them to sit in a room with nothing to do for an entire day?" Ahk asked bitterly, interrupting any apology you could've given.

"When it comes to a haul this big, yes," Fahad said, redirecting the bulk of his anger to the Pharaoh, a dynamic you despised. They had never liked each other (that much was obvious to everyone), but you preferred to keep their relationship tension at a low. That meant blaming yourself for the things you and Ahk did wrong, that meant convincing Fahad all his rage should be on you – it meant protecting Ahk from the stress of your lifestyle.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just – we've been on the road for a while, and I just wanted to have a fun night for myself," you said, interrupting their poison stares.

"If it was for yourself why the hell did you bring along the corpse?"

"Don't call him that!" You snapped, shocking both of them into silence with wide eyes.

"Why don't we just go back to the caupona? At least we can argue in privacy there," Hafa said, all three of you turning to her at the same time.

"Fine. I suppose it'll give me time to figure out what we're going to do with _you_ ," Fahad said. His words, usually a comfort to you, stung an ache into your chest.

You stayed near the end of the group, letting Fahad lead the way back to your rooms. Ever attentive, Ahk slowed his pace to match yours, reaching for your hand when he stood beside you. A soft grin came across you despite your worries.

"He's just worried for your safety," he murmured softly into your ear, still staring at the back of Fahad's turban.

"I think he's more worried about the treasure's safety, but thank you," you mumbled back.

Back in Fahad's room, he yelled long and loud enough that the caupo had to come interrupt, informing him curtly that the other patrons didn't enjoy his volume. He glared at the man, but to your delight finally shut up. There was a limited amount of night, and you preferred to spend it with Ahk, and not in the context of the both of you getting yelled at. More of a 'it's just us now,' kind of thing.

As expected, Fahad grounded both of you to the caupona, citing some sort of guideline he'd never told you about before. Something about loyalty and listening to superiors – you weren't paying much attention, at least not until the end. It was then that he announced Ahk wouldn't be returning to your room. Fear thrashed inside your heart when you thought of him moving to Fahad's room, where you couldn't help or save him from the man's on and off again murderous tendencies. When Fahad further explained that Ahk would be staying with Myron on the ship, you were slightly more relieved, but still disappointed. You wanted to spend the whole of the evening with him; no worry for sailing a ship, or waking up your friends.

You got about three hours of sleep before dawn came. The corner of your room remained empty, bereft of your friend and his coffin. A quiet anger gnawed on your mind. Sometimes Fahad could be a little cruel – you could too, but not to your friends. Never to your friends, and usually not to innocent people, though you doubted you could be considered an innocent person. But Ahk was innocent and he didn't deserve to be tied to the ship, even as much as you trusted Myron.

For the day, you stayed with Fahad and Hafa, sticking with the latter for some sense of stability. You weren't sure what Fahad currently thought of you, but Hafa was good with comfort. Myron silently walked behind the three of you, his hands behind his back as he followed Fahad's directions. No one had yet told you where the four of you were going, but you assumed it had something to do with potential buyers, considering how deep into the city you were going.

Once you finally reached your destination your feet were aching, bent and sore against the cobblestone walkways. In front of you stood a tall domus, painted in white and carmine, its' shale roof casting shadow down on you.

"This is a home of the Veturia family," Fahad told the three of you, leading you up the steps towards the door. "They're rich and interested in history, which is perfect for us. Hafa, smile a little more, Myron, try not to glare the entire time, and Iyad... just don't talk."

You huffed but said nothing.

Fahad knocked on the door, using metal against metal to call a servant to the door. A few seconds after he knocked you heard scuffling footsteps, and a moment later the door opened, a short, skinny woman gesturing you inside. You stared at her for a moment before following your friends in.

As promised but not agreed to, you stayed silent for the majority of the time, only speaking when called upon first. They talked and you listened intently, though by the second hour you were starting to feel a little drowsy. What you caught filled in the questions you had – how much was being sold, when, for what price, and the instructions on how to keep quiet about the origin. The Veturia family knew just what they were getting in on, a fact Fahad made blazingly clear every time you sold in bulk. Smaller things could be sold on the market without explanation of its' use or origin.

Through the stained glass windows set tall in the home, you could watch the sun pass you by. Streaming sunlight moved across the floor as a sign of a setting sun – that meant evening would come soon, and Ahk would awake on the ship alone. Your leg bounced up and down nervously. Would he be able to get out of his sarcophagus without help?

With clenched fingers your eyes darted from Fahad to Hafa, wondering if either of them would realize. Probably not; they gave the bare amount of attention to the Pharaoh despite his importance, a fact that often had you annoyed. Despite your own moral leanings, you enjoyed spending time with genuinely good people, as they were always more aware and conscious of their affect on those around them. Fahad was incredibly conscious of himself, but he didn't care how people viewed him. Sometimes you wished you were more like that, though with your friend stuck in a coffin with approaching night, you wanted to be nothing else besides who you were.

Myron appeared to be tense as well – his shoulders, while usually tight, were now pulled upwards to match the strength of his folded arms. His finger tapped against his forearm, quick and without a firm beat.

The minutes dragged by, but in your anxious state it moved too fast. Your foot began tapping against the floor, jiggling your leg and annoying Fahad, who was trying his best to sell the authenticity of the treasure. For a single shining moment you felt utter rage – at what you couldn't quite tell, but perhaps you were feeling that anger Ahkmenrah felt when he realized you and your friends had stolen his belongings.

Why did you feel that way? You didn't feel like that at all when you broke a man's coffin open and shattered his bones. You didn't feel like that when you robbed a Greek noble of his prized tapestry. In fact, you never felt like that – you were never angry for any other reason than your own being.

Biting into the inside of your cheek, you began to imagine things, things you normally didn't think of. Returning Ahkmenrah to his place of rest. Returning his possessions. Letting him sleep for the rest of time, and leaving him in peace. The thought of it, while it should've made you happy that your new friend would find justice, also deeply saddened you. You even thought that perhaps you could join him – find that afterlife so many priests talk about, but you soon after realized that would entail you dying, and with that the thought was dismissed.

Out of the corner of your eye you spied Myron whispering quietly to Hafa, something you couldn't hear over Fahad's conversation with the Veturia's. She nodded, and Myron unfolded his arms, making his way to you. Without word he hoisted you to your feet, leading you out the large doors of the mansion home.

"Where are we going?" You asked, trying your best to keep up with his long strides.

"Ship. Don't want your Pharaoh stuck in a sarcophagus all night," he grumbled lowly. Your eyes widened with a blush. Had one of your friends told him the truth about Ahk, or had he figured it out by himself?

"They're letting me see him again?" You asked.

"As long as they don't know I'm fine with it," he said.

In an almost giddy rush you made your way to the docks, winding around the wooden paths before you found the familiar sails of an old, battered down Roman ship. There you climbed the tiny bridge, landing on the base of the boat where many of the barrels had already been removed. Myron came up after you and unlocked the door to below deck.

Most of the ship had remained how it was when you last saw it, besides the many barrels and mountains of gold. What little space there was below deck was taken up by storage, a large desk, and a couple chairs. The table sat in the center, several instruments kept upon its' surface. In the dark of evening you could barely see, but as Myron lit up his lantern, you caught sight of the golden sarcophagus pressed up against the far wall. Instantly a smile befell you – he had not yet awoken.

Myron set the lantern upon the table, the clanking distracting you from your thought process. He pulled up a chair, and you did the same, the both of you waiting for the true beginning of evening. It was a little strange; sometimes what you thought was still sunset constituted as night for the magic of the tablet.

When light barely making it through the cracks of the hull vanished altogether, the coffin began to rattle, jiggling the lock that resided on the outside. You jumped to your feet, removing the lock and opening up the lid for a very disoriented-looking Ahk.

"Iyad!" He said, a wide grin spreading across his face. You practically beamed and pulled him into a hug.

"I was worried we wouldn't make it in time to help you out. That would've been a nightmare," you said as you pulled away.

"I agree. I woke up enough times in my tomb to dislike it," he said, clambering out of the coffin.

"You woke up in your tomb?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Father didn't think about how to get _out_ of the sarcophagus once you woke up," he said with a roll of his eyes, scoffing. "Fortunately, however, you have saved me from that eternity. In a... special way."

"You mean stealing you?" Myron interrupted, turning both your attentions to his slumped form in the chair, his arms crossed.

"Now, Captain, there's no need to be cynical. I hold no grudge against Iyad," Ahk said, facing you with once more with a sweet, _beautiful_ smile, all yours to know.

"That I can see," he grumbled, pulling himself to his feet and shuffling back to the tiny stairway.

"Never mind him," Ahk said once Myron shut the door behind him, "is Fahad still mad at us?"

"Incredibly."

"I see nothing's changed, then."

The two of you went back up to the deck, the first sight from your angled view being the first stars of night. As usual the brightest one stayed to the north, near that evening's moon, twinkling as stars do in the eyes of lovers. You weren't lovers – not in that context of lovers. You had love for him, a love he showed in return, and that convinced you that perhaps you were lovers, at least in one sense of the word.

Up on the Captain's point Myron had flopped down on the long, cushioned chair, his scarf pulled over his eyes. You didn't blame him, feeling tired yourself despite having done next to nothing all day. All you did was sit and listen to Fahad talk, thinking constantly of the state of your life and the internal affairs of the many people in your life. That meant soul searching if one could consider it such. To you it felt more like constant anxiety.

Looking up at Ahk, who was chuckling softly at the sight of Myron snorting in his sleep, you decided time with him was good for you. Already some of the stress had slipped away, and you found it easier to smile.

"Ahk?" You asked softly, watching him turn to face you with a politely expectant expression. "Can I talk to you for a little while?"

"Don't you always? You don't need to ask," he said with a smile, taking your hand and pulling you to the side, where the two of you sat down on the ship's rail.

"It's just.. a little more serious, if that's alright," you explained almost hesitantly.

"Of course."

"Did I ever tell you how I met Fahad and Hafa? Or, even how they met each other?"

"Hmm," he thought a moment, "I don't think so."

"They were already friends when I met them. I don't know if they're telling the truth, though I don't have any reason to disbelieve, but they said they met when Fahad was sold to Hafa's family as a slave. I met them in a sort of... precarious situation, in Rome. I..."

You were always hesitant to mention your past transgressions. Maybe that was the after-product of shame, a shame that should've sprouted long ago but that only came up after meeting Ahk. Before him you had little trouble – if any at all – committing the things you did. The harm. Even the rudeness of your words. Was it that he made you want to be a better person? You didn't know, but maybe – you wouldn't put it past him to have that kind of power over people. He was ceaselessly kind.

"... I was in the seedier markets. You know, the ones where you get shady poisons and weapons. I went there every now and then, so I never felt unsafe, but I guess that evening was different. This man approached me and started.. he tried to take off my clothes."

His eyes widened, but before he could say anything you continued.

"It didn't happen, of course. I punched the living shit out of him and he got angry, and when he did Fahad and Hafa found me. Fahad knifed him in the stomach. We buried his body outside the city and... I don't know. Ever since then I've felt a sense of duty towards him," you said with a sigh, your brows knit into a tense look. "He did save me, after all."

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Ahk mumbled, leant forward onto his elbows. "I don't think you owe him anything. What he did was kind, but protecting someone from a violation of nature, that feels more like a situation where you're obligated to help. Unless it puts you in serious danger, I believe you should help the broken rights of people."

"Yeah, but that's because you're a good person," you chuckled. "No one else on this journey is a good person."

"You are."

You fell silent, all replies and retorts falling dead on your tongue. What was there to say? That he was wrong? You knew he was – no one could know what he did and consider you a good person. While you hadn't told him the entirety of your past, he knew a good deal of it, enough that he probably should've thought negatively of you. But there he was, sitting with his knee brushing against yours, his words soft, and telling you for the first time in your life that you were inherently good.

"Do you want to go steal a canoe?"

"I'm sorry?" You asked, quirking your brow.

"There's a whole row of canoes over there," he said, looking over your shoulder, "and I've heard that the stars are beautiful when on peaceful waters."

"I don't know. Do you think we'll get lost?"

"Uhhh..." he trailed off, "no..?"

"You know what," you said as you stood, "anything to get my mind off Fahad. I've been thinking about him a lot lately and I'm sick of it."

"That's the spirit," he said with a laugh.

Careful not to step too harsh or speak too loud, the two of you left the boat, leaving Myron snoring near the wheel. He looked safe enough, and it took a lot to wake him up from an easy sleep. On the waters he couldn't sleep a wink, but docked in the harbor, nothing came easier. Meanwhile you and Ahk took advantage of some poor boat seller, taking one of the longer canoes and the two paddles along with it. He set it on the water, helping you inside before handing you the paddles, clambering into the boat after you.

"This will be fun," he said smiling, as though you didn't believe it would be fun. It'd be plenty of fun, you knew that – whether it was _safe_ was a different question. Then again, when had you ever not done something just because it wasn't safe?

He paddled you out and away from the docks, away from land and the city lights till all of Rome was a solitary light in a sky of lights. As usual, he was right – the stars glittered as they did in the vacant deserts, a sight yours alone to see and yours alone to love. Now Ahkmenrah joined you, and the two of you could watch in awe as God's greatest creation hung above you.

The heavens were a point of interest in nearly everyone you met. It was just one of those things people liked – you couldn't blame them. For you, it was a familiar painting, one you could take with you anywhere and see in any place. It took up no space and didn't weigh a thing, but brought you great joy and wonder. In times like these you liked to ask those sorts of questions; who could've created such a show, what the lights meant, what they even were. Some claimed them to be distant lamps, or simply a calendar to read the seasons. As for you, you saw them as worlds – each star a sort of earth like your own, just slightly different. Some place where maybe you hadn't met Ahk, or hadn't run away from your parents.

Every intricate marking in the sky, every imaginary line drawn by human eyes and every distant color reflected in the still of the seawater. The water held itself like a massive mirror, a perfect copy of the sky, eternal and silent.

"You're right," you murmured, voice strained from looking straight up. "It's beautiful out here."

"I've never actually done this. Not even on the ship. Waters weren't calm enough then," he said conversationally.

"You didn't do this as a prince?"

"No, not really," he said with a soft chuckle. "I was a preoccupied child."

"Preoccupied with what?" You asked, turning to him in sudden curiosity.

"Just... things. I daydreamed a lot when I was very young, around six or seven," he said, nodding absently. "I also chased after girls a lot. Some boys, too... very much a child caught up in the new, shiny things."

"Am I another shiny thing?" You asked with a giggle, not realizing the implication behind it.

"No, you're more permanent," he murmured, still smiling thoughtlessly. "I think that's come with age and maturity, though. The older I got the more I realized that people would remember me, that my actions had consequences, you know... the usual teenage stuff. After that I tried to treat people as I would want to be treated – I'm still learning how to do that."

" _Still learning_? Ahk, you've already got it down. Trust me," you laughed.

"That's just what I want you to think," he replied, grinning.

As you giggled together, he dipped his hand into the water, watching the ripples he caused. You looked down with him, enraptured in the stars swirling like the lights of a firefly swarm.

"It's actually warm," he noted quietly.

"Really?"

You dipped in your own hand, feeling around the water. True to his word, it was rather warm, a nice temperature even in the cool summer nights.

"Ever gone swimming at midnight?" He asked, turning back to you with a smirk.

"Can't say I have," you said in your usual, calm voice, which was abruptly interrupted when Ahk undid the belt of his dress and let it clunk to the bottom of the canoe. His dress fell with it, revealing toned, dark legs that had you blushing a bright red. You could barely speak, the lump in your throat too big to surpass.

"It's just us here, love," he said, taking your hands and pulling you to your feet. "There's no need to worry."

He stepped close to you. Close enough that the heat of his breath pushed through your cheche, burning your cheeks with an overpowering blush. When he placed his hand on your chest, it was all you could feel, the pounding of your heart certainly pushing against his palm. But you didn't move, and his other hand came up to you. Slower than anything he pulled at your coat, till it fell to the canoe's bottom with his dress, soon joined by your pants and shirt till all that truly remained was your cheche. He hadn't ever seen you without it.

He'd never actually seen your face behind the scarf. Now, he undid the special wrappings, watching your expression carefully and moving gently, till it fell from you and the chill of night hit your cheeks. His eyes widened as the scarf fell to the floor, fully unravelled.

"You..." he paused, scanning every bit of your revealed face, darting to your long, messy hair. "I like your hair." His voice cracked.

"Thanks," you said with a sweet giggle and a blushing smile. It was hard to stay put together for long – not with his bare chest so close to yours.

"I like your smile more," he chuckled softly. "Come."

He redirected the both of you to the boat's edge, your eyes instinctively going to your wavy reflections. The boat swayed slightly with the change of weight. Before you could think to steady yourself, Ahk released your hand, jumping headfirst into the inky black water. For one horrifying second you were terrified of losing sight of him, but the next second he reemerged from the dark with wet curls and a delighted grin.

"It's really quite pleasant here," he said, still grinning up at you. You smiled with him – you couldn't help it.

Taking a deep breath, you jumped off the side, trying your best to complete an even dive. Rarely did you ever swim, especially not in seas or oceans. Lakes and rivers you knew about, but seas had a larger variety of animals, and often floors so deep you couldn't see anything beneath you. Fortunately, before panic could hit you, you breached the surface with a gasp, shaking your head of its' trance.

"See? Nice, isn't it?" He said, swimming to your side. You leaned back, letting yourself float on your back, your head tilted to the heavens.

"You've never lied before, Ahk."

Ahkmenrah, apparently accustomed to the delights of swimming, went on to show you several tricks. A few of them he tried to teach to you, but the majority you had no desire to learn. They were a bit too advanced for you, someone who didn't live around much water. What with living mainly in a desert, you couldn't consider water acrobatics a necessary talent. Still, it was fun to watch him – his now-black hair stuck to his forehead, tangling and getting in his eyes so much that he had to constantly brush it away. The curls still held their shape, forming a mess on his head that had your heart softening.

"So you swam a lot as a child?" You asked, sitting back in the boat but leaning over the side to converse easily with Ahk, who was still swimming.

"I lived right next to the Nile, and it was a beautiful place to be. You didn't even need the vast expanse of water to see the heavens reflected on the earth – the city lights would do that for you. Always had me feeling adventurous, and one of the best, most interesting, most private places to go was the Nile," he said, relaxing back into the water's hold. "Several times I brought a friend with me. I think people liked me for that."

"What, for access to the Nile?"

"No, that was free. I meant that I think people liked me for my adventurous spirit... I always had something to do, you know?" He asked, turning his head to you.

"That I understand," you said. "I was a bit like that. Not to your extent, but I do feel like it's one of my redeeming attributes. Back in Somalia, I didn't have many friends, but when people needed something done they would usually ask me. Like – not everything, but... they'd get me to come with them on a trek to their grandparents place six miles up the river. Not specifically that, but just that kind of thing. A friend for hire."

"Yes, I... I understand. It's strange to look back on those times in our lives," he hummed, closing his eyes with a deep sigh.

"Yeah... strange..," you mumbled.

You stayed out there a little longer before deciding to head back. On the way back to the ship he stopped your rowing, asking for a moment longer to speak with you in the privacy far away from land. From where the canoe sat you could make out the outlines of Rome, but little else, though that didn't matter to Ahk as long as you listened to him.

"I think you should seriously consider leaving Fahad and Hafa. I don't want to pressure you into it, but I don't think they're good for you. You're old enough now to make your own decisions and they treat you like a child," he said rather bluntly, pulling you out of that wonderful couple-hour daze of not worrying about your situation with Fahad and Ahk.

"I know," you sighed helplessly. "It's hard. I don't know how to bring it up, but... I'll consider it more seriously now, now that you've mentioned it."

"Good," he said, nodding. "Myron could even help you. I think he likes us more than he likes Fahad and Hafa."

"Probably," you laughed, shy to do so without the protection of your cheche, but he adored it. Every time he saw your smile he stared at you, his own vacant smile on his face as he did. To be fair, he was staring at your face regardless if you smiled, another behavior you couldn’t help but notice.

"We could do things like this every night then," he said, letting you start back on rowing again. "No one to tell us it's a bad idea or to keep on task."

"It's good to keep on task sometimes."

"Of course, if you're trying to get something done," he agreed, "but I've got nothing to do for eternity except to spend time with you."

"I look forward to it."

 _Fuck, I told myself this wouldn’t happen_ , you thought, looking up at him as you rowed, _I think I might be in love_.


	5. Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The climax before the bang.

The evening went by without a hitch; no Fahad, Myron fast asleep, and the world ignorant to the two of you. It left a silence so easily filled by each other, as though there was nowhere you'd want to be more. As you stared at Ahk, watching how the corners of his lips perked up when he stared upwards, you began to slowly realize that perhaps that _was_ the truth. Maybe you were happier with him than anyone else, which would be a cruel twist of fate if true. After all, all things aside, he was still a 1,000 year old corpse who only lived at night.

You leaned against him as you so often did, reveling in his warmth against your wind-chilled skin.

"You're one of the best people I've met," you murmured, sleepiness creeping up on you as a side-effect of actually working during the day.

"You must not have met very many people then."

"No one of quality, at least."

He chuckled and fell silent, resuming his listless gaze of the stars. You glanced up at him, caught in his own wonder, so _comfortable_ in this time with you.

"I miss Egypt," he said in the silence, a tiny wave crashing against the boat as he spoke.

"I'd take you back, but I'm sure it's very different from the Egypt you knew," you said softly.

"Oh, I know," he sighed, leaning back. "I just miss it. I left a lot of things undone."

"I'm sorry. It's very.. understandable, that you'd feel like this," you said, gingerly trying out your weak attempts at comfort.

"It's alright. I have you now," he said.

At the coming of dawn you helped him back into his sarcophagus, and as usual, only shut it once his chest stopped moving. You emerged from below deck a moment later, joining Myron at the Captain's wheel.

"We were fixing leaks all night," he said gruffly, words half-muffled by his long, unkempt beard, the stripes of white tangled with black.

"Got it," you said.

An hour or two into the morning Fahad and Hafa came out to greet you, having obviously spent the night in their respective caupona rooms, instead of awake on a boat. The both of them had cleaned up, their hair done up and clothes de-wrinkled. In contrast you hadn't changed your clothes in days, Myron's thick scruff had grown to a full beard, and the both of you were covered in muck.

"Good morning," Fahad said with a pleasant smile, boarding the ship with your help.

"How'd the deal go?" You asked, looking between Fahad and Hafa.

"Fantastic! They're buying pretty much everything. Now we just have to deal with the tablet," Fahad said. Immediately your expression dropped.

"We could probably take it apart, that way it sells better and doesn't do all that hoodoo magic," Hafa suggested, earning an avid nod from Fahad.

"I thought we agreed to keep Ahkmenrah _and_ the tablet," you said, trying your best to keep an even voice.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"It'll hurt me!" You exclaimed, the outburst bringing both of them to shock. Out of the corner of your eye you spied Myron, leant against the ship's rail, lighting a pipe. Smug bastard had no opinion either way; you envied that apathy.

"Iyad, he's already dead. What you're falling in love with isn’t really yours. Do you really want to dedicate your life to something that will outlive you?" Fahad asked in an almost gentle way, hoping to persuade you to his benefit.

"That's what all of humanity does! How do you think people made houses, or the Coliseum? We think of the future, and that's what sets us apart from animals," you gritted out, getting right in his face despite being a head or so shorter than him. "We make things so that future generations might have an easier go at life than we do. There is no fault in leaving behind something good, but there _is_ fault in denying yourself something good just because it won't always belong to you."

"You need to calm down," Hafa said, crossing her arms.

"Maybe _you_ need to lash out!" You retorted.

"I've already lashed out at you. Three times. It didn't work," Fahad said flatly, matching Hafa's crossed arms.

"I won't let you sell Ahk or the tablet," you said, hands balled into fists and teeth clenched.

"We're trying to make a profit here. Do you know how much a sarcophagus with a fully intact mummy would sell for? People are freaks, they want dead people," Hafa said with a shrug.

"Let them be freaks, just not with my friend. I'll take him as my cut of pay. Just let him stay with me," you said, practically begging.

"Ugh," Fahad grumbled. "You and your sentiment. We'll think about it, alright? Will that do for now?"

"Fine."

The Veturia family paid in advance, a fact that had Fahad chipper throughout the day. All that was left was to bring the portion of their purchase to them. Most of the things in your room were put in the carriage, along with most of Hafa's room, and a few things from beneath the ship and Fahad's room. They didn't purchase everything, but a good deal of it – several trips worth. Exhaustion creeped around you, pulling at your eyelids as you lifted the heavy chest into the wagon.

You tried to keep concentrated on the task at hand, but you couldn't stop the anxiousness appearing every time you thought of Ahk, and the image that invaded your mind of selling him. Shaking yourself out of a thoughtful daze, you loaded the rest of the goblets into the back of the wagon. Myron, sitting at the front, led the horses through the street. With a crack of the reins you jumped into the back, followed by Fahad and Hafa tumbling onto the wood floor of the shaded wagon. You laughed at them, earning glares from both.

The carriage lurched forward, evening out over the bumps of the cobblestone roads. Horse hooves clacked against the stone, a pattern that droned in your head as you sat in the back, amongst the how many hundreds of years old treasure. For some reason, neither you or Ahk were too concerned with him losing all that gold – he was a bit like you in that respect. Very little connection to material things.

Together, the four of you made three and a half trips. Several of the Veturia family's servants greeted you at the door, helping you to lug everything into the living room, where the man of the house would examine the goods. They couldn't be too careful; you understood that and the desire to ensure authenticity, but Myron didn't appreciate the wasted time. Fortunately for everyone, he was the last person to complain out loud.

After the final trip, all four of you were invited to a dinner at their home, where no expense would be spared to make an enjoyable evening. The moment the head of the house mentioned a plethora of wine, women, and song, your eyes widened and you tugged on Fahad's sleeve, quietly asking him to take him up on his offer. Needless to say he did just so, and excitement bubbled in your stomach.

"I don't think we've been introduced to you, however," the head of the house said, turning to you, a single brow quirked. You were fully aware how strange you looked – you never changed out of your desert clothes and you were still covered in filth.

"I am Iyad," you said, shaking his hand and watching his mildly disgusted face with great amusement. Rich people got so uptight about the smallest amounts of dirt.

"Lucius of the Veturia house," he said in return, subtly wiping his hand off on his pants when you released your grip. "This is my wife, Fausta. Our children aren't here at the moment, but you'll meet them at dinner tomorrow."

"Sounds fun," you said blankly, knowing full well children hated you.

Soon after your short conversation with Lucius, Fahad and Hafa led you away and back to the caupona. Myron directed the carriage for a little while, but before you reached the caupona, he kicked you off and muttered something about returning it to a nearby market. The rest of the way was quiet; the cracks and rolls of the street were silent beneath your leather-clad feet, entirely different from hardwood wheels.

Returning to your room, you collapsed down on the bed, taking several, closed-eye deep breaths. The only light was that from your window, the panes pouring sunshine in pale light to land on your floor in four even squares. Dust floated about highlighted by the rays. Afternoon had already passed you by, making for the last few hours of sunlight, a time where you grew restless and chipper. Ahk would awake soon. If you worked your magic properly he could probably join you at dinner, which would certainly be more fun than not having him there.

Once you scraped a different outfit together from a mix of old and new clothes, you headed off to Myron's ship, from which you could easily watch the sun sink into the ocean. The satchel at your side carried a number of things, including another outfit, but not limited to several weapons and a small canister of white wine whose alcohol levels were so high the seller warned you against having open flame nearby.

Grasping the rail, you jumped up onto the ship's floor. You caught sight of Myron instantly, jogging to meet him at the helm.

"Everything alright?" You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him to meet you.

"Dandy," he said. "Ahk'll be awaking soon."

"I know," you said with a thoughtless smile, "that's why I'm here."

"Good to know you care about me," he grumbled as you left, chuckling soft at his sarcasm.

Your footsteps pounded a rhythm as you ran down the stairs, hand barely on the rail before you abandoned it completely in search of the sarcophagus. It took a couple second for your eyes to adjust, but they soon did, and you knelt on the floor beside the golden coffin, gaze trained on Ahkmenrah's death mask.

_I'm in love with this man, aren't I?_

A knock came from the sarcophagus and you jumped, hurrying to unlatch the lock and push the lid off. Ahk arose a moment later still covered in old linen. You helped him out of it, tossing the bits and scraps back into the open coffin before smiling up at him, prepared to inform him on tonight's plan.

"Tomorrow evening we have to go to a dinner, so we should get you some nicer clothes in the meantime," you said, oblivious to the fact that you were still holding his hands and the fact that he was letting you do so.

"Mmm. If that's what's happening you should take a bath," he noted, looking you up and down.

"You're not the first to notice, so thank you, but we can deal with that later. Clothes first," you said, and once you earned Ahk's approval, you dragged him up and out of the ship's basement.

Looking back every now and then to ensure he was still following you, you led him through the streets you knew well, leading to the caupona that had become a landmark for which way to turn. To the left were nobler houses, grand in their stature, and opposite to the right, where smaller, more cramped houses were pushed up against the waterfront. Directly ahead of the caupona was the market you had visited several days ago, still filled with visitors even in the night.

The best part about the whole of your situation was that all the remaining treasure could be kept in one room, early on decided to be on Myron's ship. It left you with no duties – Fahad couldn't get mad at you for running off with Ahk if you didn't have anything to do in the first place. Without worry for secrecy on your mind, you had more brainpower to devote to him, silently remarking upon his every smile.

You couldn't get him out of your mind, though considering you were walking hand in hand with him, you didn't beat yourself up about it too much. Everything about him pronounced itself to you; his eyes flickering to every storefront, his parted lips, his tangled, black hair, the way he squeezed your hand whenever he wanted attention.

"Will you be wearing that mask for the dinner?" He asked you suddenly, his attention falling from the stores to you.

"I don't think so," you said. "I want to get a head covering, but if I can't I'll need to wear it. I can pull it beneath my chin."

"Why _do_ you wear it?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"A mix of religious and personal reasons," you said with a shrug. He accepted the answer as adequate.

The first store to truly catch his eye was a rather garish one, colored brightly and styled to the art of Babylonian and Gallic. You brought up that the dresses were a tad out of fashion, but he didn't care, remarking that he preferred vibrant colors over anything else. Despite not understanding you followed him inside, checking the prices of every outfit he liked to see what you could afford.

In the end he settled for blue robes – bluer than the sky – with a skirt that came down to his knee instead of midway up his thigh. Ever one for the dramatic and the finer things in life, he picked out a crimson cape, the edges trimmed with gold silk. It hung well off his shoulders, and for a moment you could imagine seeing this man as your King, towered above the many ancient populations of ancient Egypt. A God on earth.

"You look nice," you commented lamely when he emerged, fully redressed with a bright grin on his face. It was the only thing you could say without your heart bursting from anxious excitement.

"Thank you," he said, looking down at his clothes and raising his foot to look better. "Did you pick anything out?"

"No, I think I'll just wear some of my other clothes," you said as you dug into your pocket for the coin purse. Your hand brushed up against your mace as you did, one of the spikes poking you in the palm.

"That won't do. What if we got matching clothes?" He suggested, eager to see your reaction and faltering when your nose scrunched up.

"You might be able to pull off that outfit, but I sure as hell can't," you said.

"It doesn't have to be the same one. We can match colors!"

You and Ahk stood outside the clothes shop, you counting the few remaining coins and him looking proud of himself. He had his hands on his hips, and though he was apparently enjoying himself, you were shying away from every stranger who looked your way. Never had you ever dressed like this – yes, sometimes your clothes got attention, but that was because they were fitted specifically for desert life. Not because they were a hideously bright color.

Unfortunately, Ahk sweet-talked his way into picking out your outfit for you, landing you in pants the same shade of blue as his dress, and a headscarf the same shade of red as his cape. The cost of the whole ordeal set you back about two hundred rings, leaving you with about three coins for the rest of the night.

"What else is on the agenda? Oh, right. Bathing. How do you do it here?" He asked as you walked side by side, wandering the narrow streets in your own little world.

"Soap and water," you said, looking up at the tall buildings for landmarks.

"I'm glad that hasn't changed, but do you bathe in the river or in private?"

"Neither," you answered, easily recalling the last time you bathed in Rome. "We have bathhouses – or, they have bathhouses. They're public, so I hope you're okay with nudity, because it's definitely worth it. The water is always steaming hot and honestly, it's amazing. I don't know how they do it."

"Interesting... we had bathhouses as well, big buildings with pools of water in them that the public was free to use. I didn't, um, use them very often, considering I had a private bathing room, but when I was out and about it was a nice break from the heat. Usually happened several times in the day," he said conversationally, staring either at you or the road.

"Ohh, yes. I've heard your people were very clean. I thought you bathed in the river though," you said.

"Only sometimes," he said, and both of you laughed.

Once you got your bearings as to where in the city you were, it was only a matter of time before the two of you found yourself in front of one of those infamous bathhouses, the slight scent of lavender oil drifting off with the steam. You wouldn't be getting that treatment with your dwindling wares, but the heat of the baths would certainly be enjoyable in the cool night.

Before you could even begin to make your way up the steps, one of the guards out front stopped you.

"You look a little young to be coming out here alone," he said, raising a single brow in quiet suspicion.

You groaned – this happened the last time you took someone your age to a bathhouse. Everyone thought that just because you were 'kids' you'd fuck in the water, which you _didn't_. At least not the second time.

"I'm 24 and he's..." you _wanted_ to say at least five hundred years old, but you hesitated, realizing he never told you his exact age in years. You turned to him expectantly.

"27," he answered after a moment. You let out a breath, thankful he got your rather obvious hint.

The guard looked between the two of you.

"You're still not allowed inside," he said curtly.

"Oh my Gods, I –"

"Iyad?"

You heard a voice from inside call your name, perking you out of your about-to-be swear session. A frown came to you as you wondered who was inside that could know you. Before you or the guard could say anything, Myron stepped out from behind the large, wooden doors, a tiny towel wrapped around his waist. Besides that he was entirely naked – which you didn't need to see at _any_ point – and the many scars trailed up and down his chest were obvious.

"Captain? How'd you get in?" You asked, tilting your head curiously.

"I have a membership."

"Since when do _you_ –"

"Do you want in or not?"

You paused before answering, eyes flickering to Ahk before they came back to Myron.

"Yes please."

Steam hit you the second the doors closed behind you, locking you and Ahk away from the unlit world and towards one where the water seemed to glow. Torches and candles hung from the walls and sat upon tables, most of which boasted an array of food, kept away from the water by presenting it in the changing rooms. Even though the hot water was a couple rooms away, its' warmth still reached you and your new clothes clung to your skin.

Myron kept on walking, leaving you in the changing room with Ahk. He tried to follow the Captain, but before he could you grabbed his wrist, motioning for him to stay. For a moment he looked like he was ready to ask as to why, but once you started to undress yourself he shut up. His mouth still hung open, nothing but silence passing through his lips.

"Put your clothes in one of the cubbies. Then we can go," you told him softly, wary of any high volume. At this time of night, customers liked to relax into their sleep, which meant a good deal of people were still in the bathhouse. Not the amount there was at daytime, but a fair amount.

His eye lingered on you for a moment – probably several moments, actually – before he turned around and began to strip out of his clothes. The cape fell to the floor, followed quickly by his dress and replaced with little else but a sheer, black robe. Your breath caught in your throat, but ever one to deny your feelings you turned abruptly around and finished undressing like that. If you couldn't see him, there was no way you could feel his stare on the back of your neck, though there was heat all around your body nonetheless.

"Ready?" He asked when you turned, leant against the wall beside the door, still donned in robes of flowing silk that revealed nearly everything.

"Yeah. Let's go," you said, too quiet for your own tastes, but it was the only thing you could manage.

The instant you opened the door, a whole new wave of warmth overcame you, aiding in carrying the scent of lavender from nobler rooms to you. Ahk smiled pleasantly, clearly enjoying the warmth and familiar scents.

"There's the notatio, it probably won't be warm right now, though," you said, pointing to the open-air pool ahead of you.

Pillars lined each side, some holding incense, others carrying candles, but each carved to hold up the high ceiling. On the other side of the notatio pool, a door in the wall led to a cold water basin.

"We don't want the laconica, probably not the sudatoria..." you muttered to yourself, leading him down the right hall, "but the calidarium would work fantastically."

You stopped him in the middle of the hallway, jiggling with the door knob till it clicked and opened. Motioning him over, he entered after you, letting you quietly shut the door before the two of you overlooked the room. You already had an idea as to what it looked like; you couldn't recall visiting this specific bathhouse, but most bathhouses looked the same, especially in Rome.

As you turned around, the first thing you noted was the vacancy. Not a single person was in the pool, though despite that, the water _was_ still warm to the point of steam. You grinned – you'd never had a bathhouse to yourself, always too lazy to go out late or wake up early.

With you distracted, Ahk found the time to strip out of the single layer he wore, tossing the robe to you as he stepped down into the water. You didn't realize till his robe and belt fell over your head, blocking your vision for a moment before you tugged it off.

Now that he had your attention, you couldn't rid yourself of the concentration – there were freckles down his spine and shoulders, the only marks on his pampered, dark skin. He wasn't overly muscular by any standpoint, but he was toned, from lean fingers to strong legs, back up to his waist. Skinny, with the slightest happy trail leading down to a place you instinctively looked away from.

A minute later you realized you were staring and still carrying his clothes, a dumbfounded stature that had Ahk chuckling at you. You blushed brighter than ever before, fumbling to get Ahk's clothes out of your arms, and your own clothes onto the floor. Ignoring the sound of your own bare feet slapping against the smooth floor, you made your way into the water. Once it surrounded you, a soft, breathy sigh left you as you leaned your head back.

"It's funny how this would be hell back in Egypt. It gets so hot there these days," you said, more a whisper than a true voice. The heat surrounding you blurred out your own heat from both blush and... other things. Such as Ahk, who sat close enough that his bare thigh touched yours.

"Mmm," he hummed pleasantly, "in the winters warm baths are wonderful. What season is it, anyway?"

"No clue," you said. Ahk chuckled, leaning his head back beside yours.

Every now and then you heard footsteps outside the door, and each time you tensed up just slightly. Barely noticeable, but Ahk, ever wary of your comfort, noticed.

"You seem nervous," he said, shifting in the water till his elbow rested on the ledge, his fingers tapping against the stone behind your head.

"I just like the peace and quiet, and that ends if someone else comes here. You know how I like spending time with you when it's just the two of us," you said, eyes opening just slightly to watch him. As usual he looked concerned, with a gently knitted brow and a soft frown.

"I know," he murmured, inching ever closer till he leant upwards and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "You're sweet like that."

"Get off me," you grumbled through your blush, shying away further when he did nothing but laugh. Your face was practically in his chest now, one of his knees rested gently on your hip and a hand settled precariously close to your inner thigh.

"I don't think you want me to get off," he smirked, more of a statement than a comment, before fully swinging his leg over your body and sitting in your lap, one leg on each side of you and squeezing your hips. You froze, keeping your hands where they couldn't touch him as you stared at where his skin met yours.

"What are you doing?" You asked, quiet and rough. His eyes scanned yours fervently, noting the way they glimmered in the low light, how your gaze never left his.

"Seducing you. Is it working?"

You took a deep breath, rubbing your face with one of your hands.

"Yes," you said reluctantly. _Smartass_.

"Good. Then I can do this," he said before leaning in abruptly, kissing you with adoration in his every movement, leaning into you and soaking up the tremor in your hands.

He intertwined his fingers with yours as he deepened the kiss, half-desperate for you. For a moment you swallowed up your doubts, the worries grown over the past month, and enjoyed every inch of his touch. You found yourself leaning in just as he was, hands coming up to cradle his face. A soft hum fell from his lips that sent your heart pounding.

How long had you been craving this for? You knew the instant you first saw him that he was handsome – that much was obvious to both you, Fahad, and Hafa. That didn't exactly mean you wanted to kiss him though. Yes, you liked kissing pretty boys, but the whole 'corpse' thing really had you off put at first. Now you were kissing the life out of the Pharaoh, feeling his movements against you and the all around warmth overcrowding you.

Maybe the desire had only formed in the past couple days. It was hard to tell, especially when days melded together. There was one thing you did know, though – you never wanted to stop.

He pulled away for breath only when neither of you could stand it, panting in the space between you as he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. Leaning in, he kissed you again, this time soft and slow. No fervor, but the reverence remained, filling up your head with its' loving toxicity.

"I've never met anyone like you," you murmured once you were free to speak, your stare trained on his lips flickering up to his eyes.

"You must not have met many people," he said with a thoughtless smile, "I'm one in a hundred."

"That's not true, and even if it was I wouldn't care," you said, taking his comment far too seriously. Fortunately you were aware of it, smiling when he grinned and shook his head. Once more he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss, both needy and soft all at once.

"Fahad is going to be enraged if he finds out," he mumbled, and from his closeness you could feel the words against your lips.

"Then we won't let him find out," you said as you cupped his face once more, squeezing his cheeks slightly. He frowned and made a disapproving noise, but you grinned, kissing his nose.

"Mmm. Do they have any soap here? We do still need to get clean," he said.

"I'm fine with getting dirty," you said with a sly smile, earning a slap to your arm from him.

"Not like that, Iyad," he said, but he was smiling along with you. "I want to look good for the dinner."

"You'll look good no matter, but if you're worried about it, I can go get the oil," you suggested, recalling a small table in the changing room that showcased a variety of soaps and oils.

Harsh Roman soap never did well on your skin, but oil did, and thus when it came time to pick you chose oil scented with rose. Your half-wet robes clung to your shivering skin, cooled in the deep of night. The open notatio let midnight creep into the bathhouse. With quick steps, you made your way back to Ahk, letting the door creak slowly open before you entered.

"Iyad?" He asked quietly, turning around in the water to face you. You hummed in acknowledgement as you removed your robe. "You like me, right?"

"... yes?" You said. He knew you liked him – why else would you keep him around?

"No, I mean... the kiss, that wasn't just because you were bored or something, right?"

"What? No. Hell no," you scoffed, dipping your feet into the water beside him. A tingle ran up your spine as you did so. "I really do like you, Ahk. I didn't want to at first, but... I'm happier like this."

With you sat upon the pool's ledge, he leaned against your thigh, wrapping his arms around your lower leg and pulling it in like a hug. He stared off at the blank wall across the room.

"I adore you," he murmured, a soft, fluttering sigh leaving him before his eyes slowly shut.

"Do you want to get clean or not, lover boy?" You asked in a teasing lilt, waving the bottle of oil in the air.

"Ooh, yes, come down here," he said in sudden excitement, pulling you down so you sat next to him in the water. "I can help you wash off."

Before you could even question what that entailed, he took the bottle from you, popping open the cork and pouring a fair amount on his hands. You tried to stutter out your question nonetheless, but were cut off short when he set his hands on your shoulders and began rubbing the oil into your tired skin. At that point you were at a loss for words – his hands were already working lower, into your clavicle and down your upper chest.

He payed your stupor little mind, humming softly to himself as he worked with your skin, once ashy, now soft and rosy. No one had ever bathed you before – not even your parents. The sensations, while new, weren't entirely unpleasant. There was the anxiety behind wondering what the hell was happening, but your worries quelled themselves when he smiled softly up at you, his hands moving ever lower.

"Here, stand," he said, leading you to your feet. From there he stood you between his spread legs, looking up at you as he applied more oil onto his hands.

The seat was low enough that his head levelled with your hips, a fact that should've sent your anxiety sky-rocketing. But there was something in the way he moved – even in the way he looked at you, something that kept you right where you were, stuck in a trance of his making. Feather light graces against your waist formed into flat palms, travelling up and down your skin.

Despite having settled himself on your hips at first, his hands continued their movement upwards, massaging the oil into your chest. It was then you stopped breathing, too caught up in the delight to chance it being naught but a dream.

He kept humming softly, smiling absently to himself. 

Was he actually enjoying himself?

"Don't take too long," you said, "we still need to get you clean."

"I know. Just... just taking the time to appreciate you."

You kissed him several more times that night, some in a half-drunk state of mind, but the best of them all was the kiss he gave as he bid you good-bye. Fahad always said that the sweetest kisses came from the most bitter circumstances. At least in your case you would see him again, across the dining table of Roman nobles whose rules you couldn't care less about.

The image of his hands on your waist, eyes looking to you with a quiet reverence, haunted your dreams.


	6. Piracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The proceeding evenings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao why is this so long?!?   
> sorry for taking so long to get this out! i had to deal with movers, and then trying to get a friend out of a bad situation, then actually moving?? god. anyway. hope this is acceptable.

He snuck up behind you as you stared into the mirror, watching the short necklace rest its' pearl in the dip of your neck. In a soft movement you quietly allowed, he encircled your waist with his arms, resting his head on your shoulder.

"You look beautiful," he murmured into your ear, his sleep-rough voice warm against your skin.

"You could, too," you said, "if you woke up earlier."

"It's not my fault the sun set later than usual," he said defensively, but the both of you broke out in giggles, unable to hold your composure any longer.

"Still. You _do_ need to get dressed. The dinner party is in an hour, and it takes... maybe twenty minutes to get there?"

"I know, my love," he said with a quiet grunt, pulling himself reluctantly away from you with a quick kiss to your temple.

* * *

In the mirror you watched as he turned to the bed, trailing his fingers over the clean clothes bought only a day ago. The red and blue remained bright as ever. At first you hadn't liked the statement, but the more you looked at it on yourself, the more you grew to appreciate it. Yes, people would stare at you, but probably no more than usual, and you couldn't let Ahk embarrass himself. Not alone at least.

For the next couple minutes you helped where you could, pinning the cape against his shoulder and straightening out the back of his skirt. You looked over his shoulder to his reflection and yours.

"Does it look alright?" He asked, tilting his head down to meet your eye.

"I think so," you said as you shifted his belt.

At first Fahad was reluctant to allow Ahk to come to the dinner, but you were insistent. You knew of his worries – Ahk came from a different time and place, bringing with him his own traditions and societal rules that may not coincide with Roman principles. There was also the chance of the two of you getting into mischief, which was what Fahad was most worried about.

Fortunately for you and Ahk, you managed to pull Fahad over to your side, aided by a helpful Hafa who finally took pity on the two of you. She had never been all that adverse to your friendship with the Pharaoh. As for the 'mischief' Fahad was so worried about, she didn't like that – while not quite as anal about it as Fahad, she enjoyed the same structure in her life.

Although Fahad and Hafa agreed to bring Ahk along, there was still a lingering resentment in the air as Myron drove the wagon down the cobblestone street. The three of them had never gotten on well, and that much became perfectly obvious when, ten minutes into the ride, Fahad began listing off table manners while looking directly at Ahk.

"You don't have to teach me how to act," Ahk interrupted him bluntly, holding a hand up as though to shush him. Fahad, obviously, didn't take kindly to the gesture.

"I'm just saying –"

"I was a Pharaoh. I held at least ten feasts in my court as peace treaties with other nations, and I knew how to act in each culture," he said.

"But not in Roman," Fahad pointed out, earning a glare from both you and Ahk.

"He has a point," Hafa said.

"All you need to know is to stay quiet and polite, and copy other people's mannerisms," you said, turning to face Ahk directly, ignoring Fahad and Hafa.

Conversation fell silent a minute later, a silence that carried on to the end of the road, where Myron tugged on the reins and brought the carriage to a halt. The four of you exited one after the other, each donned in a single trinket from the treasure hoard. You found your snake brace, letting it rest above your wrist as a sort of match to Ahk's trinket, which was a falcon brace on the opposite hand. Fahad wore gold and lapis earrings, and Hafa bore several rings on her fingers. Myron looked much the same as he always did – a little rough, a little unkempt, but he found time to trim his beard and change clothes beforehand.

As you followed Fahad up the stone steps, you made sure to keep close to Ahk, just in case anything should happen. You still didn't fully trust Fahad and his word, but you doubted he'd genuinely do anything once the servant answered the door. She was a short woman, young as well, and clearly of the anxious type. Leading you through the artfully decorated hallway, you soon found yourself being presented a dimly-lit dining room.

Velvet curtains hung over the windows, blocking out the light of the moon completely. The whole of the room was lit only by an array of candles, set upon silver holders and ordered neatly on the table from top, middle, to bottom. Each chair had its' own cushion, soft against your palms as you sat down. As you were ordered about by a few servants leading you to designated seats, Ahk ended up across from you, and Hafa at your side. On her other side sat Fahad, who was closest to the head.

In the dim candlelight, you could just barely make out the details of the children's faces – three of them, two girls and one boy. Your gaze strayed from them when Lucius appeared through the door, taking his seat at the head of the table. His wife entered after him – you couldn't quite remember her name, maybe Faustice – and sat down at his side.

"Thank you for joining us this evening," Lucius said with a curt nod and smile in Fahad's direction. He mimicked the greeting.

"Thank you for having us," Fahad said, his tone the polite and eager-to-please tone he usually had around buyers.

"I hope you'll enlighten us on how you came across this... treasure," Lucius said softly. His gently knitted brow lost your attention when the distant sound of tapping filled your head, directing you to the man across from you.

Ahk, adorned in the red and blue robes you bought the previous evening, was staring off into space as his clean nails tapped against the table cloth. A soft disinterest had glazed over his eyes, clearly letting him drift off into thought of places far from here. You couldn't blame him – Fahad was telling some cock and bull story about fighting past traps and danger to find the heart of a pyramid tomb. It was _you_ that risked your life and it was an underground tomb.

He really was pretty in the little flames dancing on wax. Each flicker from the smallest movements sent shadows dancing over his cheeks, highlighting both his blush and the tiny freckles you'd memorized on his nose. A soft, aloof smile had spread across his face, indenting a dimple into his cheek.

In an instant your face began to heat up, a blush appearing to mark your quiet embarrassment. Yet again you were staring at Ahk; thankfully no one caught you this time, and conversation, while in the background of your thoughts, still carried on happily without you.

"So what's your role in this business?" Lucius asked, and once you realized he was looking directly at you, your back straightened automatically as your eyes widened.

"I, um – I provide protection and reconnaissance, in case we're warned against a city," you said after you cleared your throat, trying your best to sound professional.

"Interesting. Are you... you're the youngest of the group, yes?"

You nodded.

"Doesn't that make you less qualified?"

"I'm good with weapons," you answered simply, "and I'm small enough to sneak around."

"That's sound. I hadn't thought of that," Lucius said, taking another small bite of his food.

 _Asshole_. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Ahk sent you a reassuring smile that had your heart melting, and a short moment later your grievances were forgotten. With the thin, long design of the table, you could probably reach across it and hold his hand – maybe. You ought to try, you reasoned, and in less than a minute you could feel the tips of Ahk's fingers brushing against yours. Just barely there.

Several minutes later it became clear the tiny touch was not enough. He shifted himself down in the chair, letting his foot reach for yours, bumping against your sandal beneath the table. You stifled a giggle, wary of Lucius and Fahad's conversation.

"I like this place," Ahk whispered to you, careful to make sure no one but you noticed his words.

"Really? I thought it'd be a bit stuffy for you."

"The fireplace is nice," he murmured, "and I like the candlelight."

Hafa elbowed you in the side, muttering under her breath something about keeping quiet. You knew better than to test her, pulling your hand away from Ahk's, and leaning back into your cushioned chair.

About five minutes after you and Ahk parted the food came out, carried on silver platters, most of which were covered by matching, domed lids. Once the servants set the plates down the lids were removed, revealing a wealth of delicacies. To your surprise the dishes were not limited to Roman cuisine; Greek had joined as well, along with a few recipes you could recall from your time in Africa.

Silence fell over the table as everyone dug into their meals. Mindful of your manners, you served yourself twice, keeping quiet as you were usually instructed to do. Lucius might've asked you a question but you knew he didn't really care about you or your job. After all, you must've been closer to his children's ages than his, considering his hair had turned a silver white, and the eldest daughter was definitely older than you.

If you weren't in an entanglement with Ahk, you probably would've hit on his wife. Not for any specific reason – she _obviously_ wouldn't sleep with you, but she was pretty, and you loved being an asshole to rich buyers. Fausta was her name – she reintroduced herself – and she had the longest, straightest hair you'd ever seen. She must've kept to a rigorous hair-care routine, as even in the dim light her hair seemed to shine.

"Ahk, right?" Lucius said, pulling you away from staring at his wife. He was directing the question to Ahk, whose eyes widened, eager to reply.

"Yes sir," he said with a polite smile.

"Are you just a friend, or do you have a job with them?"

"Well, um..." he glanced nervously to you, "I..."

"He navigates," you interrupted, watching the relief fall over Ahk's face. "The Captain sometimes needs help on the boat, just so he can get some sleep, so Ahk and I take over for that. He also helps immensely in the Saharan, what with being born there."

"Right. I always have trouble articulating... we aren't exactly a well-organized company," Ahk joked, earning a genuine chuckle from Lucius. Glancing to the side, you noted Fahad's soured expression, almost laughing at his bitterness. He was _not_ having Ahk's little white lies.

"He and Iyad are always getting into some sort of trouble," Fahad said, forcefully cutting his meat with a dull knife. "You find them all sorts of places – churches, wine shops, off on the sea."

You froze up. To your knowledge, Fahad wasn't aware of your little outing in that tiny canoe, where Ahk had led you to gaze at the stars and swim a little. It was possible all he was mentioning was your sea-faring escapades whilst traveling from Egypt to Rome, but your fingers clenched into a fist nonetheless.

"We've been careful," you defended yourself, "and nothing's ever gone wrong."

"It's more the principle of the thing. Insubordinate soldiers make for a weak army," Fahad said, a quiet, seething glare sent your way.

"Oh, that I know," Lucius said. "I commanded a small armada several years back – nothing too serious, but weak links in a chain are more common than you'd think, and it only takes one weak link to break it."

"That's a good point. Eloquently put," Fahad said with a nod.

You scoffed to yourself and turned back to your dish. The two men were getting along dangerously well, and with that realization came a strong desire – fortunately one you recognized. That longing in your heart ached for Ahk, to run your fingers over his skin, to pull him close and kiss the life out of him. You glanced up to him, finding him off in his own thoughts as he stared at the melting wax of the candles.

"The best thing to do with a weak link is to reinforce it, not to punish it," Ahk said out of nowhere, earning the stares of you, Lucius, Fahad, Hafa, and Fausta.

"What?" Fahad asked once it become clear no one else would.

"When you found us out those nights, you punished both of us. I just don't think that's the most effective method. I mean, we're still going out, so it obviously didn't work," Ahk said, leaning back in his chair. You could physically feel your chest tighten up – this was _not_ the time to start a discussion of this sort.

"You're still going out?"

 _Fuck_ , you thought, hiding your face in your hands, _he didn't know_.

"I told you not to do that. Rome is dangerous these days," Fahad said, and though his words indicated the anger came from care, there was a spitting venom in his tone that forced you to believe he meant none of it.

"Iyad carries a mace with them everywhere," Ahk pointed out. You couldn't help but agree, but then again, this _was_ your friend who was talking.

"And Ahk knows hand to hand combat. Right?" You asked, turning to Ahk, who nodded.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Fahad muttered under his breath. "There are a dozen good reasons for you to not disobey me. One would be so you don't give me a damn heart attack, so I don't worry about where you are, or if you're hurt throughout the day."

"You're treating us as though we're little kids. I've – you _know_ I can handle myself. I handled myself fine on my own," you said as you crossed your arms.

"When you're working with a group you have to change your behavior! That's just how things work in life!" Fahad exclaimed, the flat of his palm slamming against the wood table.

"Careful there," Lucius said, pulling you away from the argument and to Lucius, who was watching Fahad's hand. "That cloth is imported from India."

"Sorry," he mumbled, dragging his hand back into his lap.

"It's alright, don't let it happen again. It seems to me you've got some... issues, in your little troupe," Lucius commented softly, as though any wrong word would set Fahad off. You knew from experience that his fear was valid.

Like most Romans, especially the noble ones, Lucius grew a subtle interest in your drama. When you noticed you almost laughed. Fortunately you held back, knowing that would only aggravate everyone further.

"We aren't always like this," Hafa said.

"It only changed once Ahk came," Fahad grumbled quietly, but due to your nearness to him, you could still hear his words that set a fire in your head.

"If you were just a little more open-minded this wouldn't be an issue," you said. Before you even spoke the words you knew it was a bad idea. Fahad's mouth opened, his brows knitting into an offended shock.

"This has _nothing_ to do with me and everything to do with you and your boy toy," he hissed back.

"My _boy toy_?!"

"He's not all that wrong, to be fair," Ahk interjected, but you glossed over his words. Just because he wasn't offended by the name didn't mean you weren't.

"Ahk hasn't done anything wrong except give me a sense of freedom again, which has helped me realize I pretty much gave up all my freedom by agreeing to join you," you said, your gaze so intensely trained on Fahad that you missed the way Lucius called over a servant, a worried look plastered over his face.

"When you're in a group you need to make compromises. One would think you would know that, considering you're 24," Fahad said.

"Forcing them to stay in a room by themselves for a whole day and night without any entertainment is _hardly_ a compromise. It's a misuse of power," Ahk said, and with that, the attention of the table turned to him.

"You shut up about this," Fahad seethed. "This is between me and Iyad."

"You're literally discussing me!"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Lucius said, his chair screeching against the floor as he stood. "I have more important matters that need tending to over listening to people fight."

Embarrassment filled you – never before had you been dismissed so easily by someone who invited you to their home. Fahad must've been affected by it as well, as he stood silently, muttered a quiet thank you for the food, and left out the door. Hafa apologized while you and Ahk snuck away, led by an antsy Myron.

"At least the food was good," Ahk said quietly halfway through the walk back to the caupona. The three of you had yet to run into Fahad or Hafa, which convinced you that they were off somewhere cooling off. Neither of them were very fast walkers.

"True," you mumbled in reply, staring at the ground.

Silence filled the time for most of the way, but when the path split between the boat and the caupona, Myron stopped. You and Ahk copied, wondering what was wrong.

"What were they like before Ahk came 'round?" Myron asked, turning to face you. Your brain stuttered for a moment.

"I.. um, well, they were pretty strict. It was a bit like I was their kid, which was nice for a while," you finally answered, choosing your words carefully.

"What about now?" Myron asked. Confusion must've made itself clear on your face, because he began to explain himself further. "Do you still look at them in that light?"

"Not really," you said quietly, shrugging.

For a moment he looked between the two of you, eyes flickering back and forth as the same, sour expression remained. He sighed a deep, tired sigh before he spoke again.

"They're cutting your pay," he said.

"... what?"

"You're only getting ten percent of the winnings. Less than me," Myron clarified. 

You knew what he meant when he first spoke, but you could hardly believe what he was saying. Fahad and Hafa had sat you down long ago to discuss pay, and the three of you came to an agreement, one you all swore not to break. That was, in part, what kept you with them – an unbreakable vow of respect.

Resentment began to seed itself in your mind. How long had they been doing it? How much did Lucius actually pay? You thought of your group like your family. Why would they do this?

The actual pay didn't bother you that much – it was mostly that they lied to you and betrayed your trust.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked once you came back into your own body, noting the way both men stared at you.

"If there was a good time to leave, it'd be now," he said simply. Even with his hands stuck in his deep coat pockets, he managed to shrug, an expression of gentle sorrow hidden beneath the scruff of his face.

"I'll come with you. You know that," Ahk assured you, encircling your wrist with his fingers. A soft breath left you as he did so.

"Fuck," you mumbled. "Where the hell are we going to go, then?"

"Up to you," Myron said.

You stood there for a moment more, contemplating what your next move would be, wondering how such a deep annoyance stemmed from something you didn't actually care about. Again, money wasn't really what you were worried about – it was just the lying. Out of all things _that_ was what plagued your mind, and you couldn't hate it more. Yet another thing separating you from Fahad and Hafa.

In a second of brilliance it came to you. The image flashed in your mind; sneaking into the Veturia home, stealing away what Fahad and Hafa had stolen, leaving Rome without a word to either of them. Myron could even help you, if he wanted to. There was no doubt in your mind that you and Ahk could do it by yourselves, but you had a certain liking towards Myron, stemming most likely from his friendly bitterness.

"Will you come with us?" You asked him.

"No," he answered truthfully. "But I'll make sure they don't find you."

"Thank you," you said softly, offering a small bow. He bowed his own head before he turned, leaving down in the direction of his ship.

Your mind, so filled with the worries of the past months, was empty for the first time. Everything happening pushed you into overdrive, till even the most stressful of situations felt like nothing more than common happenstances.

"Want to go steal the stuff Fahad sold?" You asked, not bothering to turn to Ahk.

"You know I do."

A sly grin spread across your face.

With one quick trip to your caupona room, the two of you managed to gather up all your belongings, as well as the remaining treasure kept in your room. It was a scarce enough pile that all you needed to do was to pull several of the rings and braces on, letting them compliment the dark colors of your changed clothes. The rest of your things, including medicines, weapons, and clothes, rested where it usually did – in your bag, swinging at your side as you rushed down the stairs, Ahk hot on your feet.

Digging into your bag, you pulled out a knife and handed it to a surprised Ahk. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it after a moment, deciding it'd be best to keep quiet for now. You appreciated that – it was best for you to focus purely on your little plan for tonight. It wasn't the best plan, but you had a knack for making things work, and jail had never been a problem for you. Locks were incredibly easy to pick.

As you suspected, the grounds of the Veturia house were patrolled by hired arms. Two were placed at the door, two in the garden and house, and two circling the property. You caught this from the height of a nearby bell tower, the church bell hanging precariously above you as you squinted your eyes. In the dark it was hard to make out the shapes, but with help from Ahk, you identified the weakest point of the house.

A window sat in a room opposite a bedroom. It was high above the ground, on the second floor, which made your job a little more difficult. Still, that same resentment from earlier boiled in your stomach, and you would not stop for anything. There were few times you sought revenge – this time didn't really count, not to you at least. No, more than anything this was just to spite Fahad. He would be more than enraged to find out he disappointed a customer, especially after a failed dinner.

"Is it really the best idea to be doing this now?" Ahk asked, bringing you out of your intent stare. "I feel like we should put more thought into this."

"I agree with you," you said, eyes still trained on the open window, "but I don't especially care."

He paused before answering, "I didn't think you would."

Using the same rope you'd used to scale the bell tower, you climbed down the bricks, unlatching the grappling hook only when both you and Ahk were safely on the ground. You stuffed it back into your bag, hand instinctively returning to your mace the second you began moving.

The two of you inched forward, careful to remain quiet in the dead of night. Residential areas were always quieter – fortunately, there were still a few families up, celebrating Vinalia Priora. Their noise masked your footsteps, allowing you to sneak up close to the Veturia house. Silently you motioned for Ahk to get up on your shoulders.

"That's not happening. I'm twice your size," he whispered, glancing nervously from side to side in search of guards.

"Bit of an exaggeration, but alright. I'll get on your shoulders," you whispered in return. He nodded, kneeling down so you could clamber onto him.

Once you were fully settled, you motioned silently for him to stand, which he did while doing his best to keep even. Opening up your arms to balance yourself, you peeked over the wall enclosure. If you could get up on the wall, you could walk the short roof path to the window, which sat right above the wall.

Without word you heaved yourself up, lying down flat on the red tiles. Your eyes darted around, eventually resting on the two guards at the door, who had yet to see you. Before they could do so you took Ahk's hand, helping him to scramble up and join you. The whole of the time you stared at the guards with wide eyes – to your immense fortune and luck, neither of them spotted you.

The two of you kept low on the roof, moving along your stomachs to avoid casting shadows or silhouettes. Neither of you said a word, letting the only noise between you be the rustling of clothes and heavy breaths from the exertion. Excitement thrummed in your heart – everything was going surprisingly well. You hated to jinx it, but your poorly-made plan might _actually_ work, and at the thought of that a smile crossed you. Fahad deserved this. Lucius not so much, but he was Roman, and you were sure he'd done something awful in his own life, much like the rest of you.

It wasn't long till you reached the second floor window, creeping up to stand on your knees, knife in hand. Fiddling with the safety lock, it took only a few minutes before the window drifted open with a soft _creak_. You stopped it before it could make much more noise. Behind you, Ahk bit into his lower lip, fingers curling anxiously into the red tiles.

Attempting to keep your footsteps quiet, the two of you clambered into the room, happy to find it an empty study. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but from your place on the bell tower a light out indicated an empty room. After all, it wasn't all that late – you could still see one of the daughters in the garden, accompanied by a guard. Several rooms in the house were still lit.

"Where do you think they're keeping all my stuff?" Ahk asked, earning a curt _shush_ from you.

"Store room," you mumbled, keeping as quiet as possible. "I think."

He nodded, and the two of you crept towards the closed door. With him in front of you, it was up to him to gently turn the knob, the metal clicking against itself as he did. He winced at every sound, but once the door was open the tension in his shoulders eased.

"Good job," you whispered, kissing his temple as you moved forward. He grinned and stared at you for a moment before following.

The only light in the hallway was a lit candle at the far end, allowing the two of you to stay in the shadows. Any time you heard footsteps – below or around you – both of you halted, your breath caught in your throat until a sufficient amount of time passed to know it was nothing but a scare. Despite the anxiety clouding your thoughts, a thrill filled up your heart, warming your fingertips against the cool of wood floors or the freeze of bronze doorknobs.

Here came the difficult part; getting down the stairs. Stairs were a place commonly frequented in many houses, acting as the only pathway between two floors. To make things worse, it was there at the head that the candle was lit. In order to get down the stairs, and hopefully to the storeroom, you would have to take a chance and run down them. You prayed to whoever would listen that no one would pop their head out of any door, and with that short prayer from both you and Ahk, the two of you set down the stairs, keeping close to the rail to avoid creaks in the floor.

To your immense surprise and relief the two of you managed to get down unseen, once more returning to lurk in the shadows of the lower floor. Here there was no light – only that of the moon, shining its' waning silver through the little angle that the windows allowed. Even with your accustomed eyes it was difficult to see, but no matter – you kept to the wall, running your hand against the wood till you found the knob and lock of the storeroom.

Your heart started to beat faster – if that was even possible – as you began fiddling with the lock. You knew your way around most locks. For your job you had to, so for a little while in your youth, you picked up the hobby of dissecting Egyptian locks. Many other locks followed Egyptian design, if not plagiarizing it completely, with the only difference being the material it was made from. Egyptian locks were easy to get into since they were wooden; don't bother with the puzzle, just burn the wood. Roman locks copied off Egyptian with one big difference: they were metal. Indestructible. The puzzle was unavoidable.

"What is that?" Ahk whispered into your ear, his chin perched on your shoulder.

"What do you mean _what is this_?" You hissed back before promptly reaching back and putting your hand over his mouth, effectively silencing him. He made a quiet noise of discontent but sat down nonetheless.

Another minute later and the softest _click_ sound came from the lock, only audible to you as you pressed your ear against the metal. A wide grin spread across your face as you pulled back. Ahk, still looking over your shoulder, took the tiny tools from you while you fumbled with the door, carefully opening it.

Once the tiny crack finally opened enough, you squeezed yourself through the door, holding the handle to prevent it from moving. Ahk followed after you, handing you the tools once you closed the door.

There was nothing but dark here – you could barely see your hands kept close to Ahk's own hands, and finding your bag proved difficult. You fumbled for a little while before finally stuffing the tools in, moving to look around the room as you did so. Though you couldn't see anything, it was obvious enough that it was a store room – the rickety wood beneath you indicated a staircase, the cool draft that of the earth's hidden caverns, and wine tasted bitter on your tongue when you panted lightly. It was here in the cellar-storeroom that most people kept their wine (if they were rich enough to do so, at least).

"There's a lamp here," he murmured as a shiver ran down your spine, placed there by the underground chill.

"I've got a fire stick," you whispered, reaching down into your bag again. While he held up the lamp you searched for the metal, eventually pulling it out and promptly lighting the lamp.

The whole of the room became very suddenly visible, made so by the lamp whose warmth you were beginning to take advantage of. You kept it close to your body, and in turn, Ahk kept close to you. All there was was a hallway and a descending staircase, leading you where you couldn't see anything. Not even the floor. Still, you kept your end goal in your mind – take the sentimental things Ahk wanted, and the most expensive things. Both you and Ahk carried empty bags slung over your shoulder for ease of carrying.

He reached for you, tangling his fingers in yours as the both of you stared out. Only then did you take your first step forward, pulling Ahk with you down the stairs, where the wood creaked easily beneath your shared weight. Each sound made you wince – getting caught was _not_ an option.

The deeper you got the easier it was to see. In front of you was the dirt wall, and on either side of the staircase were racks of wine bottles. Behind everything sat your goal – packed into an uneasy pile, Ahkmenrah's treasure still reflected light as easy as always.

"You know," Ahk breathed out, taking a step forward, "we're lucky this home doesn't have any gargoyles."

"What?" You asked, your brows knitting together in confusion.

He opened up the flap on his bag, revealing the half-glowing gold tablet. A soft _oh_ left you, followed by a smile, and quiet laughter from the both of you.

"That was an interesting night. I almost forgot," you chuckled.

"We can reminisce later, when we're not breaking into someone's house," Ahk said softly, but his choice of words sent you into another fit of giggles.

With Ahk at your side the work was fast, a quiet atmosphere growing between you as you searched through the treasure. There were a few things he wanted to keep, things that meant something to him – a pair of lapis earrings, a golden anklet with a scarab, a necklace with a glazed ceramic pendant. Past that, he was an immense help when it came to identifying what was what and what was worth more. Chairs and tables or anything of that caliber were left behind no matter how much they would sell for; it wasn't worth the risk of dragging the items upstairs and out the window. Almost all jewelry was taken with you – along with ten shabti dolls at Ahk's insistence – either stuffed in bags and pockets or worn on wrists and fingers.

By the end of your frantic sorting you had multiple rings on each finger, most of your lower arms adorned completely in gold braces and bracelets. Several necklaces hung from your neck, some made purely of beads, and others of precious gems and metals. The weight of the treasure was already weighing down on you, pulling at your shoulders in the form of your linen bags.

You were satisfied – no footsteps had sounded from above you, and neither of you had made too much of a racket in the storeroom. The amount of gold on your body and in your bags was also satisfying, considering that you could probably live the rest of your life without working a single day, even without the addition of Ahk's load. Ahk on the other hand was still on his knees. Carefully he searched through the remaining bits of the pile, intent to leave nothing of importance behind.

"Here," he mumbled, pulling a necklace out and extending it to you. He remained focused on the gold when you took it and set it over your other necklaces.

He did this several more times, pulling things out and handing them to you. Not every item was a necklace, but each were clearly the work of artists, decorated intimately with specific styles and hieroglyphs. You couldn't understand a word of them but you trusted that Ahk knew what he was doing.

A huff fell past his lips as he stood, hands rested on his hips. For a moment the two of you stood side by side, overlooking the pile and your own, chosen treasure, before a quiet thump from above pulled you out of your happy daze. You were still in the Veturia's house – you hadn't gotten away with the crime just yet.

Reaching back, Ahk's hand instinctively went to yours, allowing you to pull him along as you scaled the stairs. Each step you took was careful – the sides of the stairs creaked less than the middle. If you rolled your foot instead of just stepping, there was less noise. Try not to breathe too hard.

Breathing ceased to be a problem when your breath halted. You stood right outside the cellar door, listening to someone click away at the broken lock. A quiet hum of intrigue came from the other side. Before you could think of what to do, the lock was set upon the door's handle, latching shut as the color left your face. Footsteps led away from the door.

"What's wrong?" Ahk whispered from behind you, a hand on your shoulder.

"Someone relocked the door," you grumbled, pressing your lips into a thin line. "I can't open it from this side."

"Let me see. Hold this," he whispered as he pushed you to the side, handing you the lamp.

Stumbling around him, you balanced yourself against the wall, holding the light up for him to see his work. You looked over his shoulder, wondering what he could be doing that you couldn't. If anything you could always take your mace out; it'd be a lot of noise and you would have to be fast, but the door was wooden, and you could separate it from the locked area. Still, you watched Ahk intently.

In one hand he carried a tool of your own inventing, which you did _not_ recall lending him, and with the other he balanced himself, his fingers splayed precariously on the splintered wood. With furrowed brows you dug your hand into your bag, soon realizing Ahk had managed to pick pocket you. You were almost impressed – that was, until he used your invention wrong. It still worked, but it wasn't made to unscrew things, rather made to squeeze metal bits together on finely-tuned weapons and instruments.

"Good thinking," you murmured as you watched him work, gently unscrewing the latch on the door and catching the falling bolts. The lock wouldn't be a problem if the door wasn't attached to it.

"Thanks," he whispered back. You shifted forward to kiss his cheek, a grin growing on your lips when a blush coated his face. "What do you call this thing, anyway?"

"A squeezer," you answered.

"Like a fine woman's thighs," he muttered, causing a hand to slap over your face to prevent you breaking into laughter.

"Seriously?" You said through choked giggles.

"Always, my love."

The last bolt clattered to the ground before either of you could catch it, sparking an intense fear in your head, swarming around your thoughts and begging you to flee. Footsteps sounded from the stairs, growing steadily closer. You looked to each other for confirmation before you flew down the hall hand in hand, adrenaline pulsing in your veins as you ignored everything but him and the front door. There would be guards in front of it – instinctively your hand went to your mace, and with a glance to Ahk, you found a knife in his hand.

You ran into the door, ramming it with your shoulder. Earlier you noticed a weakness – the wood of the doors were beginning to rot, making it easy to break through it. It splintered upon impact, allowing you and Ahk to continue your dead sprint, this time in the cool of night. Behind you you could hear the guards shouting, but with their armor slowed them enough to get them off your trail.

The second the Veturia house was out of sight, both of you collapsed to the floor, allowing you to hastily catch your breath. Unlike the previous hours of night, it was quiet – horribly quiet, and with a waning moon hanging above you, you realized you were hidden in the dead of night.

"We can't go back to Fahad," Ahk breathed out, his head leaned back against a brick wall. You agreed with a cracked hum, too exhausted to do much else. How long had it been since you last slept?

"No, no way," you mumbled with half lidded eyes.

"Can't go to Myron, either," he said softly, still staring at the bit of sky he could see in the alleyway. "'E said he wouldn't help us."

The distant sound of barking caught itself in your head, setting off mini-alarms. It could've been nothing – in fact, it was likely it was nothing – but fear was a precaution you wouldn't abandon. Fear kept you alive.

"We need to leave Rome tonight," he muttered, a statement the both of you knew was as unavoidable as it was unfortunate.

"Land or sea?"

"Sea leaves less tracks to follow," he said. You nodded.

"Sea it is. How's Egypt sound?" You asked, a small smile spreading across your face.

" _Wonderful_."

Figuring out a situation in which Ahk wouldn't turn to dust proved itself difficult. A regular canoe wouldn't work; they were the easiest to steal, but with your combined weights and the treasure, there simply wasn't enough space or balance. That left few options, and the two of you eventually resorted to bartering with another captain for safe passage on his ship. Several other people had the same idea, and soon you and several others were watching the shores of Rome disappear, heading towards the great emptiness of the ocean.

This captain wasn't much like Myron, the main difference being pure demeanor. Myron, a surly but kind 52-year-old man, and the new captain, Ervin, was a young man who made an honest living out of other people's travels. You weren't quite sure how Myron made his own living before you and your friends came along, but you could safely assume that whatever it was wasn't legal.

Sea air spritzed against your face as you set sail, hanging over the ledge of the ship to safely watch everything fade away. Ahk stood beside you, as always, with his shoulder against yours giving the slightest hint of warmth.

"We need to get you below deck soon," you told him softly, leaning into his touch till your head rested in the crook of his neck, nuzzling into his familiarity.

"I know. Just a moment more, please," he hummed back. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, intertwining your hands as he did so. You sunk into his comfort, exhausted from your sprinting, and from the fact that you hadn't gotten any actual sleep in at least 24 hours.

Once the light of the sun painted the lower sky a peach-blush, you took his hand and led the two of you down beneath the ship. Since Ervin's boat was a commercial ship, there were private rooms for different patrons, the best ones at the head and the worst crowded into the back of the boat. Neither of you wanted to make too big of a splash, so you settled for an in-between room that had nothing more than two hammocks and a lock on the door.

The swinging of unsteady rope sounded from behind you as you locked the door, a high-pitched /squeak/ following it once Ahk sat down. You turned, your back flush against the wooden door and your eyes on Ahk, who swung gently back and forth with the weight of his feet.

"Bedtime," you said with a quietly amused smile, pushing yourself off the door. "Blanket's in your bag, right?"

"I believe so," he said.

While you rummaged around your belongings for the heavy blanket, Ahk situated himself on the lower hammock, tucking his feet and hands into the linen boundaries. More than anything the blanket was a precaution – in case it was specifically sunlight, in case the rays themselves would turn him to dust. You doubted it was that, but he made a good point; he never saw sunlight after he died, thanks to the sarcophagus.

Fleece brushed against your fingers – just barely, but you recognized the feel of it, and pulled the blanket out of his bag. It fluttered as you brushed off the dirt, setting it over Ahk's body. For good measure you began to tuck him in, an action that made him giggle childishly, but one he nonetheless appreciated. Soon he was in a cocoon with nothing but his face showing.

"You think that'll be good enough?" You asked, kneeling down to his height.

"We're not going to get any better," he said, and you shrugged, half agreeing.

Once you covered his face, you jumped up onto the upper hammock, settling yourself in as the first rays of sun shone through the cracks in the wood. Sleep overtook you almost immediately. Thought it came quick it did not come easy – you awoke several times, tangled up in the hammock and your flimsy blanket, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You dreamed quite a lot, and quite unpleasantly, but the moment you awoke you found yourself at a loss for what the story was. All you remembered were little snippets of things; running from soldiers, hiding your scars from friends and foes alike, falling so far from the sky that hell itself had swallowed you whole.

Still, when you awoke in the evening-time to Ahk's incoherent mumbling, you felt well rested. Slightly traumatized, but with the stressors on your mind it was hard not to feel so. You jumped down from your hammock with a small grunt, spinning round on your heels once you landed. Ahk was still in his little cocoon – though the wrap was much looser – and he was wriggling beneath it. A relieved sigh left you at the sight, knowing fully that he hadn't in fact died during the day.

You knelt at his side, pulling at the blanket till it began to unravel, twisting all round him till you finally reached the other end of it. He helped best he could, moving so all the wraps would loosen. When at last you made eye contact he smiled so brightly it brought warmth to your cheeks.

"Ahk," you breathed out, a thoughtless smile on your face.

"Happy to see me?"

"No," you said as you pulled him into a hug, "just have a _massive_ erection."

" _Iyad_."

Unlike Myron, Ervin actually had a first mate, and thus was below deck when you and Ahk emerged. Dark had descended in one half of the sky, but in the other the sun's last dying rays were still trying to set. It left a purple and red dusk in its' wake that you and Ahk made sure to enjoy.

Though the first mate stood at the back of the ship in order to pilot it, you and Ahk took a seat at the back. After all, it was more fun – watching the foam build beneath the waves, emerging in round and sharp waves that crashed against the rudder. Sitting down cross-legged on the floor, the two of you went about sorting through his coins and rings, turning to watch the horizon fade every now and then.

"This is, um, lapis, I believe. Could be wrong – I... I like fashion, but I don't actually know the name of anything," he admitted, staring down at a particularly garish ring.

"It looks a bit bright to be lapis," you said with a knitted brow. "Turquoise has a – a sort of green look about it. Like this."

"Could be that then. Which one sells for more?"

"A no on keeping this ring then?" You asked, taking the ring from him and examining it closely. It was a rather simple ring, without complex decorations or worshipping craftsmanship – just a golden band with a large, raw blue stone dug into it.

"I'll never wear it. Would you?"

"Hell no," you scoffed. He chuckled as you put it in the sell pile.

"I like the ocean," he said, bringing you out of your sorting. You looked up at him curiously, finding him staring out into the black, swirling waters, with nothing behind his eyes. He was off elsewhere, as he sometimes was – caught up in life, in beauty, in you.

"We can stay close to it if you like," you suggested softly, bringing down your volume to avoid bothering the first mate.

"That would be nice," he said, turning to you, "but what would you think of that?"

"I'm the one that suggested it, aren't I?" You said with a growing smirk.

"Alright," he chuckled.

In unison you looked out back of the ship, past the swirling waters, past the tiny waves and the vast emptiness, out to the distant and blurred horizon. You could barely make out where the sea met the sky. There was little light in the sky – clouds blocked out both the moon and stars, leaving you with nothing but your adjusting eyes to see.

Out past everything a light began to glow, distant but warm. At first you thought the cloud cover was disappearing – excitement fluttered in your stomach, only to dissipate on the realization that it was below the horizon. You squinted, concentrating a little more.

"Can you see that light?" You asked softly, to both Ahk and the first mate.

"Yes, I... is it a star?"

"Probably another boat," the first mate informed you, barely looking over his shoulder as he spoke. A quiet suspicion began to grow in your head.

"Do you think it's them?" You whispered to Ahk.

"Can't know for sure till the morning. You'll have to stay up a bit early," he said, looking you in the eye with a worried expression.

"Alright," you sighed in hopes of releasing some of the tension that had suddenly took hold of your fingers. "In the morn."

The rest of the night was enjoyed as it usually was – simply talking with each other, going about and exploring the few places the ship allowed, and enjoying the other's company. You enjoyed each other's company _several_ times that night, in both your room and above deck, though those times were much quieter. For the time being you let Fahad slip your mind, and revenge no longer found a definition in your head. After all, it was you and Ahk, and there was nothing but love around you.

Halfway into Ahk's skirt for the third time that night, you noticed that the space around you was lightening. The clouds were beginning to turn grey, and the details of his face and the ship were clearing in the haze. Sunrise would come soon whether or not the sky was blue. Regretfully you pulled away from him, mumbling that he needed to get back to bed.

"I don't _want_ to," he whined, still eager to press his body close to you. He pushed his hips against yours, nuzzling in and biting your neck.

"Ahk, trust me, I don't want you to stop either," you said, pushing his chest with your palms till you met his eye, "but I also don't want you to turn into dust."

"It won't even take me that long. You're _very_ easy to –"

"Jesus Christ, just go to sleep," you laughed, moving your hands to cover his mouth. That didn't deter him – of course it didn't, he just kissed at your palm, running his hands down from your chest to your hips. Delight filled you as you giggled, tingling in your fingertips and blushing face, warm from your Pharaoh's affections.

A couple minutes and two more fusses later he was back in his swath, eyes closing as the first light of the sun began to shine in the cracks of the wood. You chuckled softly as you thought of what he said – that you were easy to please. It wasn't at all true, but he could think whatever he wanted to, with his damn magic fingers. You sighed.

Trudging out of the room and up the stairs, you kept in mind the earlier events of the night. The new light of the hidden sun had you squinting your eyes as you came up deck. You looked this way and that, absorbing the different passengers, the food being shared between them, Captain Ervin piloting at the back and his first mate slumped over, asleep on the stairs.

Winding between the seated people, you made your way to the next set of stairs, climbing quietly up them to stand beside Ervin. He offered you a cheerful, albeit quiet, greeting before returning to his steering. You gave a half reply, too curious to know what the light behind you was.

There was still a good deal of distance between your ship and the other ship, which in the daylight you could now see. Though you couldn't say for sure their speed, you surmised it was faster than your own, as the light was brighter and seemingly closer than it was during the night. Alas you couldn't make out the ship's details – Myron's ship was purposefully hard to recognize, barren of any tell or anything unique. It could be anyone behind you.

"I think that ship's following us," you said, hoping Ervin would find it suspicious and take maneuvers thusly.

"Possibly," he said, "this is a route frequented by traders."

 _Fuck_ , you thought.

You were far too tired to attempt to stay up the rest of the day, praying and making puzzles in your head to get the ship to safety without alerting anyone to your business. There was no way you could openly and plainly say that graverobbers were chasing you down. If it came down to that, it was a safer bet for the Captain to deem you a dangerous person, assume you were part of an illegal plot, and throw you overboard to protect the other passengers. That's what you would've done in his place.

Although you were hanging safely above Ahk, a comfortable blanket set over your legs and chest, you couldn't sleep. The closest you got was heavy exhaustion, where your mind felt weighted to your pillow and you couldn't open your eyes. Not quite asleep. Then your heart would pound, thinking about that ship, about your Ahk, about his safety and your own. Surely they wouldn't kill you, right?

An anchor dropped in your chest when you realized you were genuinely worried they would kill you. In all the time you'd known Fahad and Hafa, they never gave the indication of disliking you – disrespecting, yes, but not disliking. You were useful to them and occasionally entertaining. If they caught you, you knew they would hurt you and Ahk, but death was unsure. Would they force you to work for them? With them? Would they just ask for the treasure back, or steal it, and let you continue with your lives?

Your eyes were open, you realized, as they began to burn. In your daze you had been staring at the door, unblinking for God knows how long.

This exhaustion continued. Eventually it began to worry Ahk; you were weaker than usual, your face half-drained of color, and you drifted off in thought too easily. He knew why you weren't sleeping ever since you told him, but he couldn't easily help, which irritated him. He was nice like that, but his irritation didn't do you any good.

"They're getting awful close," you mumbled, slumped up against the back rail of the ship, watching the strange ship. Now you could see its' sails – even the strips of wood.

"We'll be docking tonight," he comforted you, "and then we can make our own decisions on pace and such."

"They'll probably dock at the same time as us. We won't have any time to prepare," you said as your nails dug into the wood beneath you.

"Let's think of a plan now, then," he said, and a moment later you nodded softly, a small hum escaping you.

He helped you sit up with your back against the rails, taking a seat across from you once you were situated. There the two of you brainstormed, wondering how you could outsmart your old friends, and refuting the theories that wouldn't work. You could simply stay in Pelusium and lead Fahad on to think you'd already left, but Fahad was too smart to believe any false trail you or Ahk could set. Booking it for Egypt wasn't even a considerable option with the weight tying you down. You could try to go to another place, since Fahad and Hafa would assume you were on track to return to Egypt, but both of them knew how to track people, and a twist in the road would only be followed.

"Gods," Ahk muttered late into the night, the both of you exhausted from thinking. "Maybe if we did a couple ideas at once?"

"What do you mean?"

"We could lay a fake trail to another place besides Egypt, but actually stay in the city. That way they either think we're trying to fool them and they go to Egypt, or they go to – to wherever else we decide we're 'going' to, but actually, we're just staying at a hotel," he explained. His words were less than well put together, but he was just as tired as you now.

"That... that could work," you said softly, your throat rough as you nodded your head. "Yeah. That could definitely work."

"If anything, it's the best idea we have," he said with a shrug.

"It's a good idea," you assured him, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

Once you decided upon your approach, it was only a matter of time till the plan solidified, allowing you and Ahk to sleep a little better at night, or day, in your case. Your plan wasn't too convoluted – when you got to Pelusium, you would purchase three camels and send them in the direction of Thebes. Simultaneously, Ahk would buy two tickets on a caravan heading east. In the end, the two of you would buy a hotel room, and wait out the search for a little while before travelling elsewhere.

The moment you got off the ship you went straight to the nearest hotel, buying a single room to host yourselves and the bounty of your thievery. From there you split – each of you with a fair amount of money – and went off to do your separate tasks. You took charge of purchasing camels, since you knew the market better, and Ahk bartered for tickets that would never be used. Later you met back at the hotel, both proudly announcing your successes.

"There's a place, up on the roof," Ahk said once the two of you settled into the room. "It could work as a lookout point."

"If we can get up there," you pointed out.

"What do you mean? Of course we can get up there. We're Ahk and Iyad, it's not the first time we've done this," he said, earning a belt of a laugh from you.

"I suppose you're right. Dinner first, though," you said.

"Oh, of course."

Pelusium wasn't all that crowded this time of year considering the colder weather and the many festivals elsewhere. It left the streets lonesome and hotel rooms empty, which in turn led to a brighter sky. Why that was you couldn't name – maybe you could see better in silence, but no matter the reason, you were glad you could see all the sky. Of course, that wasn't why you and Ahk were up there on the roof – you were looking to the coast, watching the stalking ship make port by the docks.

From the distance the two of you sat at, it was difficult to get a good reading on those exiting. What you could confidently note was the presence of not three, but five people coming off the ship, a number that could easily include Fahad, Hafa, and Myron. It wouldn't be hard for their group to hire extra hands; in fact, it'd even be wise. Not that you expected less of Fahad, with his 20-step-plans and 100 rules of precaution.

Once the shadowy figures entered the maze of city streets, you lost sight of them, making you mutter a curse beneath your breath. There went any hope of tracking them; anything further would require stealth and genuine stalking, tactics neither you nor Ahk were all that good at.

"Are you scared?" Ahk asked softly, staring off at the shore despite its' emptiness. You turned to him slightly, scanning his parted lips and vacant gaze.

"A little," you admitted. "You?"

"Oh, no," he said airily, "I'm too frightened to be scared."

A laugh bursted out of you, short and curt, eager to return to the cover of silence. You weren't all that worried about being discovered since you weren't _really_ doing anything wrong, but Ahk had mentioned his discomfort around it, and if you were there for anything, it was to make him happy.

"Should we stay up here?" He asked, shifting down from the ledge to lay flat on the roof.

"Why?"

"I don't know... extra insurance? In case they manage to find out we got a hotel room," he said. You paused – the thought hadn't crossed your mind, but he had a good point.

"Alright. That's – that's smart, but if it gets really cold we should go inside," you said, already noting your partially numb fingertips.

With a heavy sigh, he shifted again, this time touching his forehead to your knee pressed into the ground. You smiled a barely-there smile, running your fingers through his hair, and smiling wider when his eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed.

Once his breathing steadied you looked upwards, to the observatory above you, and to the sliver of moon left in the sky. Recently you'd been taking a lot of time just to look at the stars; objectively it was a horrible way to spend your time, but considering the warm thumping of your heart at Ahk's touch and the pure happiness of seeing him so entranced, there was no better way to wile away the endless time. Besides gold, it was what you were most rich in – time. Time to spend with Ahk.

A good amount of it – time – passed by frozen in that position. You kept up your tiny movements, gracing the sides of his face and the tangles in his hair as his head lay still on your lap. No matter how much you touched him, even in moments like this, it always felt warm, and soft. Not quite exciting, though your heart did have the tendency to speed up, but just a place of existing that could lull you to sleep all too easily. It was funny that such a simple thing could calm you down so well.

Through the sense of ease Ahk brought, a distinct twist of anxiety sat tied up in the bottom of your stomach. Like you'd eaten something too acidic. No matter how you thought to describe the discomfort, the origin of it remained the same; the ending of an era. By the end of tonight your life would (if all went well) never return to the way it was before. Your ties to Fahad and Hafa would be forever broken, and your life with them resigned to nothing more than a humorous memory. In the future you could tell your friends about it and laugh, thinking of how foolish and naive you were, appreciating how you would've grown. For now, however, you remained up on the roof, dreading each coming second.

"I thought I'd find you up here," a voice said from behind you, startling both you and Ahk into jumping away from each other, suddenly awake. Your head whipped in the direction of the voice, only to find Myron slowly climbing the stairs to the roof with a jug in hand.

"Captain –"

"You two realize you're always trying to find the high ground?" He interrupted, making his way to you and sitting himself down between the two of you. Leaning back, you made eye contact with Ahk, both of you beyond confused. He shrugged, just as much at a loss of answers as you were.

"What do –"

"The bell tower, the ship," he said gruffly, taking a swig from the uncorked bottle, "the tomb on top of the mountain, too."

"What are you doing here?" You finally interrupted, having gotten over your manners much faster than Ahk.

"Thought you might like to know they're both gone," he said. Immediately your eyes darted to Ahk, who was already looking at you with bugged out eyes.

"Why are you still here then?" Ahk asked in a much quieter tone than your own.

"I live here, for one," Myron said. A soft _ah_ left you. "But you finally annoyed them enough for them to give up."

"They aren't mad we stole the treasure?" You asked, leaning imperceptibly closer.

"No. The Veturia family paid in advance," he said, his eyes sat dead on the ocean ahead.

You glanced at Ahk again. It did occur to you that Myron could simply be lying; he was a hired hand and had little emotions involved, if any at all. Just because you generally enjoyed his company didn't mean he owed you the truth. But Ahk nodded, and you trusted him, more than you trusted your own intuition.

"So they're gone. We don't have to keep running?" You asked slowly.

"You say that like we were planning to keep on running," Ahk joked over Myron's shoulder. You snorted.

"But we don't have to keep looking over our shoulder...?"

Myron just shrugged, taking another sip from his bottle. Silence passed for a little while, all three of you staring out at a distant horizon, before Myron spoke.

"What are you planning on doing now?"

Again you looked to Ahk – you hadn't done much planning on what to do _after_ the threat of capture dissipated. There were a few thoughts in your head, mostly concepts rather than fully-fleshed ideas, but it gave you a good enough idea. Exploring the world around you. Running through cities and countrysides, learning about your past and potential future, giving into the wanderlust that tainted every human's mind. That sounded perfect; it set a soft smile on you that you didn't notice till you found Ahk watching you with a smile of his own.

"No idea," you admitted, "but I do want to stay on the move."

He nodded sagely.

"Have you ever considered piracy?" Myron asked.

 _Piracy_.

That could work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realized that pretty much the only media i regularly quote/reference in my stories is princess bride. its not even my favorite movie but its so fucking funny sometimes


End file.
